


Mystery Dungeon: Road to Redemption [Rewritten]

by Limesar



Series: PMD: Intertwined [1]
Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pokemon Mystery Dungeon, Pokemon Mystery Dungeon: Red Rescue Team & Blue Rescue Team
Genre: Alternate Canon, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-11
Updated: 2020-01-11
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:00:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 37,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21748678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Limesar/pseuds/Limesar
Summary: Rocard swears the universe is against him. Somehow, he's entered an unfamiliar world in the body of a pokémon. Add the fact that the worst bits of his past are running rampant here, and it only gets worse from there....Or does it get better? After all, how much farther down can you go than rock bottom?As far as he's concerned, however, there's always something worse just around the corner...[Version 2 of Road to Redemption. Now with 70% less confusion!Hopefully...]
Series: PMD: Intertwined [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1567654
Comments: 1
Kudos: 5





	1. Retconned

**Author's Note:**

> Good news: I'm finally getting around to posting these first few chapters. Bad news: you're probably gonna need to wait for more. Potentially for a long while. If you've seen my previous two 'fics before Seasonal Drabbles... ~~First off, I appreciate your patience for slogging through them, and~~ you probably expected this.
> 
> Anyways, I'm just wasting your time now. ~~also haha I named the original version of this chapter Re-conned, and now it's called Retconned am I funny yet~~

The sun made way for the crescent moon to shine above the Square. Street lights flickered above each dim passage, and the few pokémon that remained on the major paths rushed to find their place to stay. Various other pokémon, however, snuck out of obscure corners of the town.

Among the current bout of suspicious pokémon, a totodile peeked through one of the alleyways. Lockjaw hid behind a corner upon spotting a flaaffy, pulling up his scarf further. He hesitated in looking back again, breathing shallow.

The flaaffy appeared to be pressuring a caterpie about something, but Lockjaw could care less about their conversation. These days, electric-types could _not_ be trusted, especially by someone who would crumple under their shocks. He could only hope that the caterpie survived and move on.

Once those two turned a corner, he snuck down the street into another alley. The totodile glanced around some more, quietly huffing and scowling. _At this rate, it'll be morning before I find that house… Couldn't you have given some tips, Dad? Maybe better directions to the brick house you wanted me to go to?_

He kept his sights on the exits while he regained his energy. If he recalled correctly, the house was on the outskirts of town. Hearing a trickling stream of water, Lockjaw pieced his relative location together in his mind.

A faint breeze forced a shiver out of him. _Maybe I should just act natural. I'd just be on a 'nightly stroll’, right?_

Relaxing himself as best as he could, the water-type walked out of the alley, one arm attached to his bag. With nobody around to give him trouble, his confidence strengthened - if only slightly. Regardless, he hastened his pace towards the river.

Centric River officially marked the border of this town. A handful of wealthy pokémon resided near the outskirts, but these citizens either had more money than the majority of Valosse or established ties to particular 'mon…

...And yet, they had the audacity to look humble for tourists. The first house Lockjaw spotted was nothing more than a dome of bricks, with a weathered chimney leaning just a little too much. Had he not assumed this place to be his destination, the totodile could've easily passed it off as a place waiting to be demolished.

He lifted his scarf and hung it over his head, slowly approaching the house. _Okay… Okay. Just nab some apples and leave. This place should be empty… I hope._

Lockjaw checked behind himself one last time before tiptoeing through the wall. Poking his snout into the house, he first noticed a flame swaying from side to side. He saw the outlines of a resting charizard, as well as two he didn't quite recognize in the faint lighting.

He took a moment to steady himself. _Right. Where to find some…_

A glimmer of bright red entered his vision. Three shiny apples sat in a bowl dangerously close to the charizard's tail. As he approached, Lockjaw felt his jaw slacken despite himself; they were almost his size!

Tantalizing as they were, he still had to take them. As long as they could fit in his bag, the properties of his bag would carry the giant fruits with ease. Could he even fit one in there? _How do these bags work, anyways? Maybe Ma would know…_

Lockjaw shook his head. He couldn't afford to ask himself every question imaginable. Wrapping his arms under one of the apples, the water-type lifted it with as much force as he reasonably could.

However, taking the food so quickly shifted the bowl closer to the flame, rattling it just the tiniest bit.

The totodile froze, glancing between all the other sleeping pokémon in absolute silence. Then, a snort and sporadic movements spurred him to retreat, not bothering to put the apple in his bag yet. With his mobile scarf, he passed through the wall with ease yet again.

He didn't stop running until after he had entered the foliage nearby. Lockjaw let out a loud, ragged breath, dropping the apple onto the ground to lean on it. _I did it… I-I _did_ it!_

His mouth cracked a smile. _Yes! Can't wait to show this to Dad!_

While Lockjaw painfully stuffed the apple into his item sack, he looked over to where he just fled. He sighed, slinging the bag back over his shoulder. _I could've sworn that ‘mon looked just like… No, it _can't_ be them. They would've had someone on watch. Or that shield thing. They couldn't be careless enough to _not_ have that up every night._

Now all that he needed to do was get back home. The reptilian peered around the trees in search of a path. How far did he run into this forest? He paled, realizing his mistake in not bringing along a map.

“Just _great_ ,” he muttered.

* * *

A gust of wind stirred Rocard to consciousness. He sat up, breath hitching, and held up an arm on reflex. When nothing happened, he relaxed, opening his eyes to take in the surroundings.

The rough, worn path he sat on trailed behind and in front of him, with nothing but forest on both sides. While he saw the moon hovering above him, it didn't provide enough light for him to see through much of the thicket.

 _How tall are the trees here?_ he quipped. He rolled his eyes at the thought. _Maybe they look tall because I'm belly-first on the ground. I'll start aching if I stay down, so—_

Rocard caught some movement beside him, lowering his head to face a pair of limbs. However, they didn't resemble anything like a human's hands, let alone his own; soft, creamy fur covered each limb in its entirety, and the only distinguishable digits were his thumbs.

"This is…"

He found himself shaking a little, though the reason didn't necessarily involve his transformation. Intriguing as turning from one species to another was, he focused more on what led up to its occurrence. _What was I doing? Could've sworn I was running from something - or some _one_. I suppose I ended up here as…_

Looking down, he met a stomach with cream fur. The fur on his backside had a contrasting navy blue, and if he turned his neck as much as he could, he could barely make out a red spot or two. He recognized this species now: _A cyndaquil. Not the _worst_ pokémon to turn into… How is that even possible, though? Who was I running from? And where exactly did I end up?_

The former human sat under one of the trees and rested his snout on a hand. _These trees don't look like anything from Agate… Am I in Kanto? Johto? Why was I running, anyways?_

He rubbed his temples. As he thought more about his predicament, his head began aching in protest. _Damn, everything from this week was a total blank. Maybe I should be asking other questions before my brain melts over this whole thing. Where could the nearest town be…_

"Outta the way, move it!"

Before Rocard could comprehend what he just heard, someone sprinted past him. Rocard squinted his eyes, spotting a flaaffy carrying some object in its wake.

Alarm bells sounded off in his head. He started following the electric-type, though the initial surprise left him far behind. _What the hell does that flaaffy think it's doing? Sheesh, you can't be any more blatant about stealing than this! Looks like I'm the only one here to give chase, though. Catching up shouldn't—_

Overestimating how far his stride went, he tripped over himself and tumbled onto the ground. His head spun, delaying him long enough to completely lose track of the flaaffy. "Dammit! How am I gonna catch up to it now?"

He huffed, tapping the ground while he viewed his options. After a couple of seconds, he buried his face into his hands. _That flaaffy's clearly faster than me. No way am I gonna get a chance to take back what it stole! ...Whatever it was! I've got half a mind to beat up its trainer if I ever see them…_

Stomping to a spot under a tree, Rocard rested his arms on a particularly large root and glared down the path. His back felt warmer than usual, but a quick glance behind him dispelled the feeling. He rubbed his temples, freezing when something clicked.

 _That reminds me,_ he mused, _when do cyndaquil learn ember? I think they're the… the _last_ of the fire starters to learn it? _That_ fuckin' sucks. Not that it matters - how the hell would I use it, anyways?_

Sighing, the former human leaned into the tree's body. _Maybe I should sleep. I could try looking for a town right now, but at this point… Fuck, how would I get a place to stay? A pokémon speaking a human language is unheard of - and _that's_ only assuming I can do that after this transformation!_

Rocard shook his head, standing up and walking down the trail again. Sleeping wouldn't do him any favors - knowing that the flaaffy could be anywhere at this point didn't help, either.

He quickened his pace. _That flaaffy could be headed to another town. Following this path should take me there… Right?_

* * *

Lockjaw brushed his way through the plants, running parallel to the road. He kept an arm on his mobile scarf to pass through the many trees along the way. Unfortunately, he had no easy method of wading through the large amounts of tall grass.

The totodile whacked a branch out of the way in his frustration, only to receive a smack while it returned to position. _Dang! How am I supposed to go back home? There's _no_ way I'll be getting back before dawn, with how things are going…_

He rubbed at the sour spot on his snout, quietly fuming at his predicament. What he wouldn't give to have a map…

Hearing the sounds of vigorous footsteps, Lockjaw clawed his way up a tree to hide from the approaching pokémon. He recognized the flaaffy from before charging down the road, but whatever the electric-type carried was squirming in its grasp.

"Of course he's a kidnapper," Lockjaw grumbled. "As long as he's not targeting me…"

Doubting he'd be able to catch up, the water-type instead remained in his newfound perch. Even if this road was practically barren at this hour, he would eventually find someone who had a map. He readied himself; the next pokémon to come along likely wouldn't hand over their map willingly.

And as luck would have it, somebody jogged down the path from the same direction as the flaaffy from earlier - a cyndaquil. Certainly uncommon, but definitely a good matchup in case things went south.

Lockjaw peered down at the fire-type, watching it slow to a halt and take a breather. _Okay, he doesn't notice me. Ready, and…_

He leapt, landing squarely on the cyndaquil's head. However, his momentum pushed him too far forward to keep his balance, sending him tumbling to the ground.

"Augh, _fuck_!" the cyndaquil exclaimed. He leered at Lockjaw, though the paw atop his head didn't make him any more threatening. "What the hell, man? Didja' _have_ to make my headache any worse?"

"Give me all your items!" Lockjaw blurted, unsheathing a claw.

Breath hitching, the fire-type gazed to him as if there were a second head growing out of him. Cyndaquil cleared his throat. "Er, could you repeat that so I don't call myself insane?"

The totodile's eye twitched. In a much less enthusiastic tone, he repeated, "Uh, give me all your items?"

"Oh, okay." Cyndaquil sighed, then gave a big grin. "Slight problem with that: I got nothin'."

Lockjaw could only stare back in disbelief. _Is this guy on something? Maybe that's why I can see a bit more of his eyes._

"Speaking of items," Cyndaquil continued, his voice becoming sheepish, "you got a map?"

"Wh— _No_ — Huh?" the water-type stammered. He raised a claw, but the other pokémon's question bewildered him too much for him to look tough. "...Are you _lost_?!"

Eyes shifting warily, Cyndaquil continued his strained smile. "Did you really think I wasn't hopelessly lost the moment you jumped me? Anyways, did a flaaffy come by here at some point?"

Lockjaw rubbed his eyes, groaning. "What, did he steal your precious kid or something?"

"Yeah, he did—"

The fire-type whirled around, clutching Lockjaw's shoulders. "He _kidnapped_ someone?! Fuckin' hell, that's worse than I thought! Hey, you'd be some help, why don't you—"

"Not my problem," the totodile deadpanned, peeling the cyndaquil's paws off of him. "You'd be out of your mind if you think I'm dealing with a shocker."

Cyndaquil bristled, backing away. "Fine then. Go on and be a little prick."

Lockjaw snarled. " _What_ did you say to me?!"

"Excuse me! You two!"

Startled out of his argumentative mood, Lockjaw turned around to see a butterfree hovering close behind. The frantic flap of her wings echoed among the silence.

"Have you two seen my child?" Butterfree inquired, her voice cracking. "You're a rescue team, right? You _have_ to be! Please find my Caterpie!"

Lockjaw straightened up, holding his bag closer. "Ma'am, I think you—"

"Right away, Miss!" Cyndaquil interjected. "Where should we look first?"

"Hey, hold on—"

The butterfree brightened at the fire-type's response. "Goodness, I can't thank you enough! To see a team so willing to help at a moment's notice nowadays…"

She fidgeted with her arms. "You two should be capable enough to search Tiny Woods - just down that way, along the path. I don’t think he could have gone that far, but I can never be too sure… Please, be careful."

Cyndaquil nodded, dragging Lockjaw down the path. Once they moved out of earshot, the totodile wriggled out of Cyndaquil's paws. "Get your grubby paws off of me."

"I was planning to do it out of sight," Cyndaquil muttered. "We're obviously no team, but I wasn't about to make an already worried mother get even _more_ worked up."

"So you lied," Lockjaw hissed, tightening his scarf. "Wouldn't that cause her _more_ grief?"

The fire-type snorted. "Nah. Just going by myself."

Gawking at the answer, Lockjaw blinked a couple of times before leaning closer. "Tiny Woods is a mystery dungeon! Going alone is the _worst_ thing you can do!"

Cyndaquil's face changed emotions multiple times; confusion, disbelief, thoughtfulness… was there a twinge of fear in those squinted eyes? His gaze rested on the entrance to the mystery dungeon, and Lockjaw stared with him.

Most of the thin grass had faded into dirt. The once-flat path declined and narrowed a considerable amount. A wooden sign stood beside the two, its text faded beyond recognition. On the sign, a thin line of silk flickered in the moonlight.

Eventually, Cyndaquil neutralized his expression, facing the water-type. "So? Not like you'd join me, anyways. This silk’s gotta belong to that caterpie."

Lockjaw backed away, narrowing his eyes. "Then go in there. You're obviously too reckless to care about what I say."

"Fine by me," Cyndaquil remarked, sliding down the slope and into the mystery dungeon.

Scooting further from the entrance, Lockjaw rubbed his temples. He reaffirmed his grip on the bag, letting out some deep breaths. Leaning onto the wooden sign, he watched clouds pass under the moon.

 _What a weirdo,_ he sighed. _He's gonna get himself mauled sooner or later. What was with that big pause when I said this place had a mystery dungeon? Has he never heard of them? Aren't mystery dungeons like some sort of epidemic?_

The sound of flapping wings resounded behind him. His heart skipped a beat, backing away from the sign. _Wait, if that butterfree sees me standing here alone, isn't she gonna wonder why I'm not with the cyndaquil? I gotta hide!_

Yet the path had funneled too much - the increasingly steep sides kept him from climbing to safety. At some point, the sign had disappeared, too. He quietly groaned. _I'm already in it. Looks like I have no choice…_

Lockjaw stomped down the dungeon hall, cursing his luck.

* * *

"Wasn't I just here?"

Rocard scratched his chin, peering into one of the corridors. The walls hardly changed in appearance since he started exploring, their designs seemingly repeating in a set pattern. Out of the three rooms he came across, one had an oran berry, another had a strange seed, and a sunkern slept in the third.

Strangely, the grass-type laid near a staircase. This half-buried structure's gray color clashed against the light dirt, but Rocard didn't have a clue as to why it was there. He suspected it belonged to some ruins, but the stairs didn't have any rubble around to support his claim.

Entering the room with the oran berry again, he picked up the fruit and inspected it. _Not a single speck of dirt or mold on this. If I didn't just pick this off the ground, I'd easily think it came straight from the tree. It's as out-of-place as those stairs, even…_

He heard shuffling behind him, and turning around revealed the culprit to be the sunkern from before. "Huh? What's up?"

The sunkern hissed, baring teeth Rocard didn't know it had, and hovered closer.

"Holy— What… the _hell_?" he croaked, backing up slowly. "Uh… Easy there…?"

Its responding snarl spurred him into action. Rocard sidestepped the feral sunkern's tackle, holding his berry so tight he could feel the sticky juices leaking onto his fur. He launched a kick towards the opponent, but he flopped in front of it harmlessly.

 _Damn, this body's gonna take getting used to._ He winced, only barely blocking the sunkern's counterattack.

Rocard backed away from the grass-type, looking for what routes he could take. He doubted he could outrun anything yet, but one sunkern shouldn't pose much of a threat.

The sunkern leaped at him again, latching onto his arm and… sucking on it. Rocard shook it off, curling his lips. "Eugh! What, do you know leech life instead of absorb?"

He retaliated by charging at the seed pokémon. Even without the energy of a move like tackle, his attack dealt a heavy impact on the sunkern. Its leaves drooped, yet it made another attempt at an absorb.

Shrugging off the attack, Rocard countered with one more charge, slamming into the wild creature and knocking it to the ground. He let out a whoop.

"Suck on _that_ , why don't you!" he exclaimed, crossing his arms and puffing. He deflated, laughing at himself. " _Gods_ , that was bad."

Walking back into the hallway, Rocard wiped the dirt from his stomach - only to realize too late that what remained of the oran berry spread over his fur. _Eugh! Man, do I need a shower… Would it hurt as a cyndaquil to take a shower? I wish I remembered how Koal cleaned…_

He stopped in his tracks. His face contorted, and his back shivered. _...No, bad. Bad Rocard. Not the time for— for _those_ thoughts. Need a distraction…_

The former human glanced around the hall, clenching a fist while he approached the exit. With all the backtracking he did, as well as the strange properties of the area, he calmed himself with a different question. _Right, mystery dungeon. What did that totodile mean by a mystery dungeon? This place is weird, sure, but aside from those stairs I saw, it's just a valley next to a forest…_

_...Speaking of the devil…_

Rocard eyed the concrete material and scoffed. "Every other room was a dead end, and this thing is just _sitting_ here. Maybe the only way to get out is by descending these stairs."

He let out a bubbly laugh, approaching the stairs. "And _maybe_ the gods just wanna fuck with me. In _what_ world does going down two steps _magically transport_ you to—"

Touching the bottom step created a flash of light, forcing him to cover his eyes. Once the setting darkened again, the stairs had disappeared. A pair of seeds laid some distance apart, and the hallway entrances had seemingly moved.

His eye twitched, and he forced out a heated sigh. "... _This_ one, apparently."

* * *

Lockjaw stumbled down the second set of stairs, almost colliding with a wild pidgey. Before the savage creature could attack, he whacked it with an ice punch. The pidgey went down instantly, dropping a sleep seed in its wake.

"Where is that cyndaquil?" he groaned, taking the seed and stashing it in his bag. "For someone with an ego that huge, he's _begging_ to get in trouble."

Marking the room with a weak water gun, he traversed through the hallway. From his experience of the first two floors, he expected the layout of this one to be quite simple. _Could I be ahead of him? Surely, he's not so incompetent at exploring that I outpaced him… That would be…_

The next room had the stairs, yet no cyndaquil waited there. Lockjaw peered around the structure, finding himself at another dead end. Even after resting against the stairs, the totodile heard nothing out of the ordinary from the hall behind him.

"At this rate, _I'll_ be the one to find Caterpie," he grumbled. "Why am I even waiting at this point, anyways? He can go crawling home himself—"

"Iiin- _coomiiing_!"

Someone rammed into Lockjaw, crushing him between the stairs. The totodile whipped around to scratch the offender, but he instead faltered and missed. He stared at the panicked cyndaquil, resisting the urge to roll his eyes.

" _There_ you are," Lockjaw huffed, flicking Cyndaquil's long snout. "Could you not blindly rush into me like that? Ever?"

The fire-type leaned on one foot, shaking his head a few times before facing the totodile. "...So you _did_ show up after all. What, you got some sense knocked into you?"

"No!" Lockjaw exclaimed. "And what was with that scared look? Are you—"

"Just hurry up and get to the next floor," Cyndaquil stated. He pierced the water-type through his squinted, green eyes, exemplified by the dungeon going silent.

Jaw slacking, the reptile entered the staircase without another word. The light that warped him to the next floor seemed to fade much slower than before. _What is _wrong_ with this guy?_

This floor comprised of a single, wide hall that connected two large rooms. Lockjaw relaxed a little, recognizing it as the end of the mystery dungeon - unlike the previous floors, the stairs didn't disappear behind them.

"Where's that caterpie?" Cyndaquil whispered, peering down the walkway. "Hey, while we're looking, I think we should get to know each other a little bit."

Lockjaw looked away, eyes narrowing. "After roping me into this mess? Why should I want to know about you?"

Shrugging, the fire-type stepped ahead. "Fair point. Like I said, I didn't want to look bad in front of the butterfree, but I also didn't want to lie about saving her kid."

He turned around, barely maintaining eye contact with the totodile while holding a weak grin. "She was asking, well, _both_ of us to find her kid, though, so I thought it was… uh, it would've been easier to just go with it instead of trying to explain that we aren't part of this whole 'rescue team' business. Sorry about dragging you into, er… this."

Clutching his scarf, Lockjaw furrowed his brow. How could he respond to an answer like that? He heard nothing truly insincere from the cyndaquil's words, but how could he trust that nervous tone? Not even an hour had passed since Lockjaw jumped the cyndaquil - hardly enough time to get a good idea of someone.

And what happened to that recklessness from earlier? Only a few minutes ago, Cyndaquil had stared him down with a glare to rival his mother's. Most of the fire-types Lockjaw encountered as of late usually stayed home in fear of… whatever a blazer feared.

In the end, Lockjaw's head hurt from trying to figure out what the cyndaquil's motives were. He'd have to determine that later.

"Let's focus more on finding Caterpie before anything else," the water-type suggested, searching the ground with renewed vigor.

Cyndaquil nodded, returning his gaze to the room up ahead.

A few minutes of thorough inspection went by, but the only progress they made involved finding a bundle of silk and a discarded stun seed. The sky had slightly brightened by this point, and neither of them found any sign of the missing caterpie.

"Oh, I think I found something—"

Rushing over to the object in question, Cyndaquil paused in front of it and sagged. "Nope. Just a stick. This place was a bust. Let's get out of here and talk to Butterfree about it."

"Right…" Lockjaw mumbled, rubbing an eye. "I still gotta find my way home. Remind me why we checked each and every—"

"Wait a second!"

Lockjaw glared at the fire-type, watching him go past the stairs. His irritation morphed into surprise when Cyndaquil got blasted with string.

"Gah! Why did you—?!" Cyndaquil yelped. He wiped a layer of silk off of his head. "Ggh… Sorry about scaring you. We're here to bring you to your mom."

As the totodile approached, he could hear the caterpie whimper, "You're gonna s-save me?"

"Of course!" the fire-type affirmed, looking around. "Have you seen a flaaffy around here?"

"Y-Yeah…" Caterpie uttered, shriveling up. "He took me here and— Um, he wanted to…"

Lockjaw offered a claw. "Let's get going, Caterpie. Your mom's worried about you."

With a hesitant glance between the two, the tiny caterpie accepted the claw. He wrapped himself around Lockjaw's arm, all the while warily staring down Cyndaquil.

"I, well…"

Cyndaquil fidgeted his paws. "Let's go."

Nodding, Lockjaw escalated the stairs.

* * *

"He took me to that place, and, and then he…"

Rocard kept a patient smile, listening to Caterpie's tale from a distance while they searched for Butterfree. As he listened, his heart sank a little. The totodile did wonders at helping the bug-type open up, yet all that he received was an occasional glance.

He had to bear with it, however. Just seeing the caterpie become more talkative made all the difference.

"...and t-tried to make me…" Caterpie gulped. "Tried to make me g-g—"

"It's fine," Totodile whispered, rubbing the back of the bug's head. "Just say what you did after that."

"Okay… U-Uhm, after… after that, I spat some silk at him. Momma, um, she said that should only be used for… emergencies. Th-Then I used the stun seed on him when he let me go, and I hid behind the stairs… He— He was just so… so _angry_ …"

“You’re okay now. That’s all that matters right now.”

Unable to keep his smile up, Rocard turned away and redoubled his efforts in finding Butterfree. _He doesn't trust me enough to help him. I wouldn't either._

He had to get used to it again. He was used to it. _Look, don't touch. Just like back when…_

Slowing down, he tensed up. He clutched his heart. _No. Stop it. Find Butterfree, get Caterpie to her. Find Butterfree…_

"Caterpie? Ryder?!"

_Thank Arc, she's close._

Automatically, Rocard straightened, forcing the remains of his smile together and waving to Butterfree. "He's right here! We found him!"

The flying bug let out a soft gasp, fluttering towards the group. She rubbed an eye, seeing the caterpie and lighting up. "Ryder! Thank heavens!"

Butterfree scooped Ryder off of Totodile's head, snuggling him and shedding tears.

"Momma's right here," she said, her voice cracking. "You're safe, honey…"

After such a heartfelt reunion, Rocard's smile turned more genuine. As the moon glimmered from behind the two, he finally felt satisfied.

Once the mother and son broke apart from their embrace, Butterfree set the caterpie atop her head and looked to Rocard and Totodile. She landed on the ground, reaching into a pouch and hesitating.

"I… Words can't express how grateful I am, really," she admitted. "I wish I could give something more valuable, but I'm in a bit of a rough patch…"

Rocard lifted his hands and waved them a little. "No no, it's fine—"

"But I must!" Butterfree insisted, pulling out three berries and handing them to the cyndaquil. "You completed a rescue mission. Even if I didn't want to hand you a reward, I'd need to do such _by law_ \- you _are_ part of a rescue team, aren't you?"

Seeing Totodile's nervous expression out of the corner of his eye, Rocard hung his head. "Well, you see, about that…"

Butterfree's arms slacked, dropping the berries. "What of it?"

"We aren't a rescue team," the fire-type clarified, wincing. "I couldn't just sit there while you were looking for your son, though! You don't need to give me anything."

With perking wings, the butterfree let out a simple, "Oh."

Her eyes watered. "That's… so _kind_ of you! Risking getting trapped just to rescue my child… Here, let me get out a couple more berries!"

"Huh? Wait—"

Totodile elbowed Rocard, shushing him. "Just take it."

Rocard sighed. "Alright. Th-Thank you, Missus…"

"Just Rey would be fine," the bug-type responded. "I think five berries should be a suitable reward. Again, I really appreciate your help."

"It's no problem, really," Rocard mumbled, cautiously holding the fruits. "The name's Rocard. Nice meeting you. I should be heading…"

"Of course!" Rey interjected. "I'm sure you two have places to be. Right now I have to get ready for—"

She looked up at the sky, and Rocard followed her gaze to the moon. Only a sliver of it could be seen poking out of the horizon.

"I'm already late," she gasped, jumping into the air. "Take care! Hold on tight, Ryder, Momma's in a rush…"

Amidst the frantic beat of her wings, Rocard noticed that the caterpie looked at him with wistful eyes. A tiny smile crept up in his face.

Totodile crossed his arms once the two left their sights. "Okay, I _guess_ it was nice to reunite them…"

"Why _wouldn't_ it be nice?" Rocard pointed out, raising a brow. "Is it uncommon to be a decent person around here?"

"About as common as an ice-type nowadays…" the water-type muttered. His eyes narrowed. "And why shouldn't I think you were only doing it for a reward?"

The cyndaquil glanced away, setting the berries aside. _Why would I deserve a reward?_

"Probably because I didn't think there _was_ a reward?" he explained. "Did _you_ expect a reward?"

Totodile squinted his eyes further, leaning into the fire-type. "And why should I believe you? Everybody knows rescue missions have a reward at the end!"

"I could ask the same about _you_ ," Rocard retorted, crossing his arms. "Why are we still talking, again? I'm sure you need to get home yourself, considering I dragged you into this mess."

"Wh— Ah, forget it!" Totodile all but shouted. "You're impossible!"

As the totodile scampered off, Rocard returned his gaze to the pile of berries and sighed. _Well, that could've gone a bit smoother… At least I don't have to deal with him any longer._

Sitting down next to the berries, he relaxed himself to better process his current situation. _There's no way I could've gotten here without _some_ reason. What reason would justify turning into a pokémon, though? Am I being given a second chance, like some reincarnation shit? As much as I’ve wanted it, I haven’t actually died yet…_

_I'm gonna find some way to fuck this up, given my luck._

He buried his face in his hands, tired of standing so still. _I'm already wasting my chance if I just sit here and mope. I still need to find a town, anyways. Which way should I go?_

Rocard decided to head down the path Rey went. At the very least, he could speak with the butterfree on good terms. He preferred avoiding another confrontation with the totodile if he could help it.

Glancing at the berries, he felt his stomach rumble. He took a pecha berry and scarfed it down. _I don’t usually get hungry this fast. Maybe it’s just my smaller body…_

* * *

Tony guarded the entrance to the shabby house, keeping an eye out for the pelipper. He made an anxious frown every few moments, but he forced a smile whenever the occasional pokémon passed by him. _Just what was it that got King so riled up? This house calmed him a little, but what else is there I can do?_

Alas, the tyranitar couldn't determine the root of this problem. Not even the leader of their team knew what to do - if anything could be done about it.

 _Our unstoppable, all-knowing psychic meets a problem he can't solve,_ he remarked. _It's only been a few weeks, though. Surely, he'll figure it out._

"Thank you, Secretary. I apologize for the sudden request."

Somehow, his leader had arrived without him noticing. Tony craned his head around to see Alakazam with their secretary, who kept her arms wrapped around her son.

Secretary Rey bowed, holding a worn smile. "You're welcome, sir. I'm sorry for my tardiness. My son wandered off and—"

"No need to apologize," Alakazam stated. "All the hard work you do goes to show how each house thrives in their own way. A little time off would do you good."

"Th-Thank you, sir," the butterfree mumbled, her face blushing, "b-but there's still a lot of work that needs doing. Shall I put the house on sale now, or…"

"Of course. My teammates should be waiting to finalize the agreement."

Nodding, Rey excused herself and fluttered around the psychic. She shielded her eyes from the sun's glare, perching on top of the mailbox to rest her wings.

Her head drooped, startling herself long enough to maintain her balance. Tony readied himself, concerned for the bug-type's stability.

"Momma…?" The caterpie squirmed in her arms. "Momma, wake up—"

Just as he expected, Rey leaned to one side a little too much, but the tyranitar quickly caught her without much trouble.

"Hup! Easy there…"

The butterfree gasped, holding her breath for a brief moment before calming down. She squinted her eyes, staring into his own until the color drained from her face.

"U-Um, Mister Tyranitar!" she spluttered, jerking herself back into the air. "I'm sorry about the—"

"Please, just call me Tony!" the tyranitar interjected. He studied her a bit further, and his mouth soon curled into a frown. "When was the last time you slept? You look like a wreck!"

"Ah— Er… About… Last time, um, it was…"

Tony's jaw slacked. Before Rey could input another apology, he said, "You _really_ should hit the hay. I'll handle your duties for today."

"I— But—"

"You could barely stand on the mailbox without falling off!" he added, paused for a moment, then cleared his throat. " _Please_. Take a breather, and take your son home. I'll make sure you get paid for your time off."

Shutting her mouth, the butterfree took a deep breath… and exhaled. "A-Alright."

She flapped her wings, rubbing an eye and yawning. Caterpie crawled atop her head, waving his tail to the rock-type.

"Be safe, okay?" Tony called out.

Though he couldn't hear the bugs' mumbling responses, he felt confident enough that they were going to be fine. He turned to Alakazam, raising a claw before promptly lowering it again.

"I'll allow it this time," the psychic sighed, handing a stack of papers over to the rock-type. "Make sure these are done before nightfall. I'll be talking with Officer Swellow if you need me."

Nodding, Tony watched his leader teleport away. He entered the house, spotting King in the midst of adjusting a few picture frames.

The charizard whirled his head around, only relaxing when their eyes met. "Oh, it's just you."

"Yeah, just me," Tony repeated. He laid the pages onto the table, but he could see King's bone-rattling shiver out of the corner of his eye. "What breakfast did Al give ya' today? Something from Gulpin's?"

"Spinda's, actually," King informed. Glancing at the window, his breath hitched, tightening his grip on a particular frame and cracking it. "Damn… And that was a good one, too…"

Already getting up, the tyranitar gathered a few glass pieces that had fallen to the floor. "Still on edge from last night, huh?"

"...Right…"

Tony placed the pieces onto the table. Once he sat back down, an epiphany hit him. "What woke you up last night? I don't think we've actually established that."

"Heard some fishy movements," King grumbled, grabbing his tail. "I'm certain a burglar came in last night."

"How? Didn't Al have his security shield up? He couldn't have forgotten."

"I'm _absolutely convinced_ someone broke into this house," the fire-type repeated, raising his voice. "They either knew Alakazam didn't put up the shield or chose the right time by luck."

Sighing, Tony returned to his papers. He signed off some forms, tuning out the convictions of the charizard. Only when silence returned to the room did his stomach rumble.

When he peered into the bowl of apples, his brow furrowed. _Weren't there three perfect apples last night?_


	2. Out of this World

As morning turned into day, Rocard finally spotted the first sign of civilization - buildings. Even from a distance, many bright colors caught his eye; from black to white to orange to green, just about every structure had their own unique palette.

This made it a bit more difficult to pinpoint the traditional pokémon center and pokémart, however. Some buildings had the shape of a certain pokémon, but most other places only appeared to be ordinary houses.

Along the way, he noticed one such house sporting a big, fashionable flag and a brick dome. A pelipper fumbled with the strings, raising the cloth to the pole's highest point. The flag displayed a gold-plated object, somewhat resembling an egg with wings.

Once the flying-type finished, it flew to the mailbox, grumbling incoherently to itself. Rocard raised a brow at that. _Why isn't a human helping out? ...Eh, it's probably just laziness._

While he continued over a tiny bridge leading into the town, a flock of pelipper split formation above him. Occasionally, something would fall out of one of their beaks, and most of them would get retrieved quickly enough. From the height they were, Rocard could only guess the objects to be… mail?

 _Kinda weird to have pelipper deliver mail…_ he mused, lowering his head a bit. _But with such large beaks, I guess it makes sense… in a way._

Still, the lack of humans - trainers or not - bothered him. _Where's the PMC? Or the Mart, for that matter? If either is in town, there _has_ to be a few trainers around here somewhere._

Each time the cyndaquil attempted to peek around the rows of houses, he found himself desiring the height he once had as a human. Out of all the buildings he saw, none of them had a red or blue roof, pushing him to look further into town.

Carrying around the stash of berries Rey had rewarded him didn't help in his search, though. His eyes always drifted back to the collection, the temptation to eat them now almost becoming too much. _I can't eat them all yet. I don't know anybody here - who would wanna give some random guy anything of value? Maybe I could find a job or… No, that won't work. I'm not human anymore! I doubt those pelipper are getting paid…_

He took a moment to look around the area. A few pokémon crossed the streets every so often, without a single human in sight.

 _How far am I gonna need to look for a person?_ he wondered. _There has to be at least _someone_ around here that I can talk to… or try to, at least._

Though he did little to change his course, Rocard started noticing the finer details; several pokémon kept a certain distance from him, even a handful of ground- and water-types that would surely have no trouble with him. Aside from him, not a single fire-type wandered the area.

He walked a little bit faster, getting nervous from all the stares. _Did I do something wrong somehow? Is it that I'm carrying around all these berries? Maybe I should start asking the pokémon - I can understand them, after all… Should I get used to that?_

Rocard mustered the courage to approach a lombre and a snubbull, waving to them as casually as he could with a shaking paw. "Hey, I'm, uh, new here. Do you know where the—"

"Give some distance," the snubbull snarled, glaring at the fire-type, "or Lombre's gonna squirt ya'."

"Don't scare him more than he already is," Lombre chided. "You _know_ how blazers are these days!"

Backing away slightly, Rocard arched a brow. _What?_

Lombre faced the cyndaquil with an apologetic smile. "Sorry about my friend here. We're all on edge these days… not everyone wants to get mauled by a paranoid fire-type, you see?"

"Uh… Huh?" Rocard tilted his head. "I'm just looking for a place to stay. Where's the pokémon center?"

"The pokémon _whatsit_?"

He paused, blinking a few times before clearing his throat. "Y'know, where you heal your injuries and all that?"

The lombre shared a perplexed glance with the snubbull. "Er, the closest thing we've got to that is Altaria's clinic. Straight down thataway, can't miss it."

Following the grass-type's finger, Rocard saw that it continued down the path in which he was going. "Oh. Thank you. Sorry for disturbing you and all."

They shared one last glance with one another before finally parting ways. Rocard breathed out a sigh of relief, shoulders relaxing.

He stopped holding back his stomach for once and popped a chesto into his mouth. Its dry texture did little to satisfy him, but at least his body wouldn't complain for a little while. Plus, the effects of the fruit would keep him up for a little longer.

When the concrete ground faded into gravel and dirt, he noticed three particular structures standing before a cliff. All three of them had an entrance shaped after who he presumed ran the buildings: a swellow, a pelipper and an altaria.

"So _that's_ why he said you can't miss it," he muttered, heading into the altaria-shaped clinic. "Pretty impractical for a clinic to be designed after an…"

Giant lumps of cotton greeted him, filling an otherwise bare floor. Unlike his expectations, the lobby didn't have a single chair to its name. A desk much higher than him sat close to the wall, and dust piled up within the corners of the room.

A swablu poked its head out from behind the desk, letting out a small gasp. "I'm sorry, sir! Our staff's in the middle of an operation - you can sit in a seat if you'd like. I'll get to you in just a minute!"

Rocard nodded, realizing that she meant the clumps on the floor. Once he sat down, he looked back over to her and saw her writing something with a talon.

 _Pokémon running hospitals and mail service…_ His mind reeled at the revelation. _And everything else in town, I'd assume. How come I've never heard of such a place? That'd be a hell of a tourist attraction!_

"...and that, in turn… Agh, need more ink…"

"What are you writing?" Rocard piped up, jolting the avian. “...Sorry about suddenly speaking up like that.”

"Oh, it’s fine, I just—" She folded her wings and slightly turned away. "It's— It's nothing important. I'm sure it'll be in the Valosse Weekly tomorrow, though."

The cyndaquil hummed. "I'll keep that in mind. Is there a name I should look for?"

"Saria."

"Cool," he commented. Placing down his berries, he stretched for a good moment.

As he stared off into the opposite wall, he began fidgeting with his paws. _Why am I still waiting here? I doubt this place has any overnight services like a pokémon center does. How am I gonna find a place to stay?_

His mouth curled into a worried frown. _I've never heard of this 'Valosse' region. How far from home _am_ I?_

"So which team are you in?"

Rocard blinked, slowly realizing what the swablu meant. His frown vanished before he fully faced her. "Uh, I'm not in a rescue team. Why do you ask?"

"Oh!" Saria bristled her wings. "What a coincidence! You know, there's this fresh rumor that Butterfree lost her son last night. Some of the locals overheard it from the public meeting - but here's the kicker: someone without any team affiliation helped her on the _spot_! Can you believe that?"

A faint blush settled onto the cyndaquil's face. "S-Seriously? Only last night? Word… _really_ travels fast around here, huh?"

"It sure does!" she affirmed, sliding some notes aside to further face him. "Hearing about something like that just warms my heart, you know?"

Relief washed over him. _Thank Arc she's clueless. I don't need that kind of attention again._

"Is this your boyfriend of the week, Saria?"

Saria jolted, making one glance at the entering altaria before shriveling back into her desk. "Um, n-no, Doctor… I thought— I thought you were still working on…"

"We got through the hardest part, so I'm taking my break now." Eyeing Rocard, the altaria let out a great sigh. "Fantastic. You somehow got through the layers of fear and made him blush. Truly incredible."

"Huh? But I'm not—"

"Blazer, I'm sure you have more things to worry about than a crush," Altaria remarked, her heavy accent oozing contempt. "If you're not here for an appointment, leave."

Rocard rolled his eyes and picked up his berries. "Yeah, yeah, okay."

He sent one last glance to the swablu, though she had already buried her head in her writing. Once he left, he sat on the ground and exhaled.

_What to do… I've got no clue where I could work or stay. Where in the world is a town this large only inhabited by pokémon? If I had a map, maybe I'd know…_

Recalling a term both Saria and Rey had mentioned, an idea came to mind. _Maybe I could join a rescue team? That shouldn't be too hard. If it's anything like what I did to rescue Caterpie, I could get the hang of it. Now where do I sign up?_

A shrill squawk broke his train of thought, followed by a taillow zipping above him. Stray feathers fell from the avian, but it showed no signs of caring for itself.

Rocard looked between the taillow and the building from which it escaped, his face twisting. "What's this building for? If an altaria owns a clinic, and a pelipper has a post office, what would a swellow run…"

He headed closer to the swellow-shaped building and took a cursory glance at the sign up front. As he pushed against the door, he halted his progress to view the sign again.

None of the text held any meaning to him. A few letters resembled footprints or talons, but he had no clue what language he was reading. _I must be on the other side of the planet if this is the written language! This Valosse place may be a little _too_ foreign for my taste…_

His chest ached with homesickness. _Even if I found my way back to Pyrite, how would I explain… _this_ to anyone? Not like there’s anyone to talk to there…_

Though his stomach rumbled, Rocard could only rub a hand against it - should he call them paws? His mind still thought like a human, but with the distinct lack of humans around here, he couldn't afford to stand out like that.

 _Everybody here would think I'm crazy,_ he fretted. _Even in Orre, I've never heard of a pokémon claiming to be human!_

Rocard took a moment to steady himself and face the door. _I should go in there before I forget my reason for even approaching this place._

Inside this building, Rocard's jaw fell open. Many, many taillow flew around the office, carrying sheets of paper or bags to other taillow. High above this chaotic, yet orderly mess, a swellow conversed with an alakazam.

The psychic floated beside the large avian, who soon took notice of Rocard. After a bit more talking, he swooped down to greet the cyndaquil.

"Sir, do you have an issue to report?" Swellow inquired, his tone reminiscent of an automated response. "Our department is heavily busy at the moment, so please write a report on this form."

When he looked at the form to which Swellow gestured - written in the same language as the sign just outside - Rocard bit his lip. Now that he had a better look at the inside of this place, he doubted he would actually get any good answers. "Uh, no, I'm just looking for a map. A world map, preferably."

Tilting his head, the avian stammered a bit before clearing his throat. "We, uh, don't have any world maps on display, sir. I apologize for the inconvenience."

"If it's a map you need, I can… acquiesce."

The alakazam hovered above Swellow, sifting through a small bag. "You're lucky I have one on me at the moment. Tell me, Cyndaquil, where might you be from?"

"I— That's… That's personal," Rocard muttered, his voice barely louder than the flock of taillow. "I'm just extremely lost."

"Hm."

Alakazam stared at the fire-type for an uncomfortably long moment. "...Strange… Can't view…"

Refocusing himself to the matter at hand, the psychic handed over a map. "Be sure to hand it back when you're done."

With a furrowed brow, Rocard took the map with a free arm and gave a small nod. Opening up the map, he peered at the image and searched for some landmarks. He let out a small choke, eyes slowly widening.

There was no Orre. No Unova, no Kanto, no Johto. Five major landmasses of wildly different shapes, none of which resembling anywhere he knew.

"...Thank you," Rocard croaked, folding the paper and handing it back to Alakazam. "I'll be on my way."

He left the office without another word, shambling past the pelipper-shaped structure and standing at the edge of the cliff. _This isn't my world at all. What happened? Where's Orre? Where the _hell_ am I? How am I gonna get home? _Can_ I get home? I— How—_

Bile crept up his throat, and he leaned over the edge. Whatever remained of the chesto fell down the cliff, as well as a large chunk of acid.

* * *

Lockjaw collapsed onto a rock, letting out a weak cheer. _Finally, I'm home… I bet Lilac would be happy to see me. Hopefully Ma isn't _too_ angry…_

Staring into Mystic Lake, he admired the water's distinctively blue color compared to the shores south of the Square. Red hues from the morning sun gave the water a rosy tint while a few miniscule waves lapped over the rocky border.

"Sure kept me waiting, didn't you?"

He let out a yelp, sliding off the rock onto his head. As he recovered, a figure loomed over him with crossed arms. " _Dad_! Don't scare me like that!"

With a snort, his father picked him up by the leg, holding him up to eye level. "Heh, couldn't resist. You got any perfect apples?"

"Just one…" Lockjaw struggled around his bag, which had now begun to tangle around his body. "Stupid… fire-types! Waking up with every… Ngh… little— noise!"

"One's enough to feed a family," Greyson reminded, carefully unwrapping the totodile and checking the bag's contents. "Well, I’ll be - you passed with flying colors! You even got an extra sleep seed - can't have too many of those."

Putting Lockjaw back on solid ground, the dragonite took out the perfect apple and smiled. He let out a breath on the fruit and polished its surface, admiring the sheen it sported.

"Uh-huh," the water-type sighed. "And what's my reward?"

"Come now, don't be like that," Greyson reprimanded, heading into the lake. "I'll discuss the reward with your mother. You mind joining me?"

Lockjaw rolled his eyes, but he followed the dragonite into the water.

Beneath the surface, many tunnels of varying lengths had been carved out, and only one of them led to his home. Though he never knew the reason why his father made the trip so tedious, he suspected it had to do with all the luxurious items his parents "gathered" throughout the years.

Each passage had minimal lighting through the various crystals embedded in the rocky walls; other than that, the maze had nothing else to entertain him.

Once they reached their home, Lockjaw faced his father, furrowing his brow. "If a burglar comes into the maze and gets lost, won't he drown?"

"Why do you think we haven't gotten any unwanted visitors?"

The totodile went silent, eyes wide. Greyson let out a hearty laugh.

"I'm _kidding_!" he defended. Picking up his son again, he continued, "Nobody besides us has been here for decades! Even if some burglar ended up here, there's quite a few air pockets in every underwater hallway. Your Uncle Aries is _quite_ the thoughtful guy, I tell you!"

Lockjaw squirmed in the dragonite's grip, eventually giving up and sighing. "How long has Uncle Aries been away, again?"

Smile fading, Greyson trudged on in relative silence. His footsteps echoed louder than his humming. Once he opened his mouth, he only closed it yet again.

They entered the caverns of their home, but Greyson had yet to announce his presence to the water-type's mother. Lockjaw wiggled out of his father's grasp, landing on the crystalline floor while waiting for any response.

 _Well?_ Lockjaw wanted to say. _You talk so much about him, why not where he is or when he's coming back?_

"I'll talk about it with your mother," the dragon-type responded. "How about you go play with Lilac?"

" _Dad_ …"

"That wasn't a mere suggestion," he stated, scooting the totodile into the bedrooms. "I'll make sure we tell you at least a _little_ bit about Aries' whereabouts."

Huffing, Lockjaw sat beside the door. He looked to the sleeping dratini on the other side of the room, resting his snout on a claw.

 _Every time,_ he pouted. _I just want to know when I can meet him for once!_

"Morning," Lilac yawned from her bed. "Jaws, you took too long. Wanted to play last night."

"I was getting some food, Sis," the totodile moaned quietly, standing up and approaching her. "What did you wanna play?"

She raised her head and squinted her eyes at him. "Took too long. It's a secret now."

Lockjaw scoffed, but he decided not to press the issue any further. "What do you wanna play _now_?"

"Nothing."

Rolling his eyes, he fought back the smile that crept up his face. "Okay, okay. Did Ma read any stories to you last night?"

"She told me about the Ascendant," she recalled, her eyes glistening. "The one with all the bad pokémon that he made good again! You know, the—"

"I get it, Sis," Lockjaw groaned. He patted her head. "You know that's just a fairy tale, right? There's no such thing as a pokémon that can instantly 'purify' another 'mon - whatever that means."

Lilac's gaze dropped to the floor. "B-But… what about… what about the…"

As silence returned to the room, Lockjaw glanced away. _Aw, Ma won't like this! Must— cheer— her— up!_

"Well, I've never _heard_ of a purifying pokémon," he hurriedly amended, "but who knows? There might be one out there."

"You really think so?"

It took all he had not to get worked up over the hopeful expression his sister sent to him. Even still, he couldn't keep his voice from cracking when he said, "Absolutely!"

Someone knocked on the door, startling both of them. "Lockjaw, would you come here, please?"

The totodile flashed a nervous grin to Lilac before separating from her. He opened the door, seeing his mother smiling back at him.

"Little Jaws," Camilla began, "come here, why don’t you? Your father's waiting."

Following the feraligatr, Lockjaw held his head high, already envisioning what he'd receive as a reward; a larger bag? A new technique? Loads of money?

He turned the corner and saw Greyson waving giddily while propped up against something. That something had a sheet covering it, instantly piquing the totodile's curiosity.

"Now that you're here," Greyson began, "how about I unveil the reward—"

"Not yet," Camilla stated, planting her claw on the dragonite's arm. Facing her son, she continued, "Would you mind explaining what took you the whole night?"

The color drained from Lockjaw's face. "Uh… Well…"

"He got the apple and didn't get caught," Greyson reasoned with a concerned smile. "It's okay if he took a little bit of time to do that."

"Three hours past his expected return time isn't 'a little bit'," the feraligatr deadpanned. "Did you go through a mystery dungeon or something?"

"Y-Yeah…" Lockjaw buried his snout in his claws. "I got pressured into going through Tiny Woods."

Camilla narrowed her eyes, crossing her arms. "Tiny Woods? Who pressured you into going there?"

"Some cyndaquil…"

"A fire-type." Greyson snorted, but he quieted down when he received a pointed glare from his mate. "How did you get roped into going with a _cyndaquil_?"

"Dad, I thought you said all blazers were freakishly paranoid!" Lockjaw sputtered. "But this cyndaquil, he— Well— He's too much of the _opposite_! There was this butterfree that approached us and asked for help finding her kid, and the—"

"You mean Secretary Rey?"

Clutching his head, Lockjaw growled quietly. "Can I just finish my story?"

"Right, right, continue," Camilla ushered with a roll of her eyes.

"So the butterfree asked us to save her caterpie, and the cyndaquil dragged me along to help go through Tiny Woods," he recounted, tugging on his scarf. " _Apparently_ , he wanted to go save the caterpie by himself, but since Butterfree had assumed we were a team, he had to make it seem like we really _were_ part of a team, and he had dragged me far enough that I couldn’t back out even if I wanted to. _That's_ why I took so long!"

Camilla looked to Greyson, who merely shrugged. Baffled by this story, the feraligatr stumbled over her words before regaining her voice.

"Well, that would certainly take an hour or so," she reasoned. "You mentioned he found an additional sleep seed, right?"

"Oh! Yes, that's right," the dragonite confirmed, hovering a claw over the sheet once more. "Now can we show him his reward?"

Sighing, Camilla nodded. "Go on."

Greyson tore off the cloth, unveiling a… set of orbs within the metal cage. They rested atop a gaudy pink-and-cream toolkit, with a neatly folded gray scarf beside the case.

"...What." Lockjaw glared at his father. "Is my reward _seriously_ a rescue team's kit? After what happened last night?"

"Yup!" Greyson answered without skipping a beat. "You wanted to become more independent, didn't you?"

"And what does that have to do with joining a team?" The totodile analyzed an orb, identifying it as an escape orb. "How did you even _get_ these, anyways?"

"I had a few connections, dear," Camilla piped up. "Including a certain psychic-type. Turns out you can _really_ sweet-talk a good deal with that guy. He doesn't know about my relationship with your father, and you can thank your Uncle Aries and his friends for that."

Smile fading, Greyson faced his mate. "Are we gonna talk about…"

A moment of silence passed. Camilla took this opportunity to hand the kit over to Lockjaw. "Speaking of your Uncle Aries… We don't know where he is. The only thing we know is that he's alive, but… there's a very real chance that he hasn't fully recovered."

Lockjaw dropped the gray scarf, his teeth clenched shut. _That's what was keeping them from telling me? He's _alive_! If he's as great of an explorer as Dad made him out to be, who cares if he's got… a broken wing or something? I should've known sooner!_

Admittedly, having a broken wing would impact someone like a flygon pretty heavily. He shooed that technicality away, holding his head high. "Then I'll find him. I don't care how long it takes, I'm _not_ just gonna leave my family stranded like that!"

" _That's_ the spirit," Greyson encouraged, pumping a fist. Calming down, he scratched his head. "You'll have a much better chance of finding him if you're well-equipped as a rescue team. That said, you'll need to get someone on your team before anything else. Perhaps you could look for that cyndaquil you encountered before?"

"Blegh, not a _chance_!" Lockjaw denied, making a fake gagging sound. "He's too reckless!"

"Oh? Do you have any alternatives, then?"

The totodile faltered, thinking it over. He let out a huge sigh. _He's got a point… Dang it all._

"In any case," Camilla stated, walking over to the dining table, "you should replace your mobile scarf with this defense scarf and head back into the Square. Chances are that cyndaquil will be in town somewhere."

Clutching his navy blue scarf, Lockjaw shook his head. "No! I'm keeping it!"

"I'm pretty sure Tea—" Greyson caught his breath after receiving a stern look from his mate. "—Uh, the pokémon whose house you broke into will likely assume you did it if they see you with a mobile scarf."

Lockjaw slowly relented, untying the cloth. "Can I at least put it in the box?"

"Uh…" The dragonite looked to Camilla for approval. After receiving a passing nod, he handed over the pink kit. "Sure, go for it."

"I'll be over at the library if you need any help, Jaws," Camilla informed, sending a playful smirk to her mate. "Same goes for you, Greyson."

Expression morphing into false shock, Greyson placed his claws against his hips. "I'm not _that_ irresponsible! How _dare_ you compare me to our son!"

"Tell me that the next time you fall for an oren berry," the feraligatr joked.

"That happened _years_ ago!"

"Twice in the same hour, with the same berry. I _still_ don't know how you managed that."

"W-Well, no need for technicalities!"

While stuffing his beloved scarf into the container, Lockjaw glanced up at the laughing duo with weary eyes. "Before I leave, could I get some sleep?"

"Oh, of _course_!" Greyson exclaimed, slapping his forehead. More laughter ensued.

* * *

Ryder couldn't bring himself to sleep.

Maybe it had something to do with the sun hitting his eyes in just the most annoying angle; maybe it was the noise of the pokémon waking up below the floor he slept on.

But he knew _something_ was missing. After a bit of rummaging through his mind, the caterpie realized that he had forgotten something very, _very_ important.

 _...That's right!_ His silk-wrapped trinket was gone! The last object that he found that belonged to his father…

Getting up, he quietly crawled off the hay bed, making sure not to wake up his mother with his ragged breathing. _I gotta find my shiny! Oh, I _really_ hope it didn't get broke!_

Unfortunately, he couldn't deny that he might have left it in Tiny Woods. If his mother got word that he went back into a mystery dungeon… Such rage would be unimaginable!

He shuddered. _What do I do? Momma will get worried again if she wakes up and I'm not here… but I need to find it before it's gone forever!_

As he entered the hallway and descended the stairs, Ryder's eyes lit up with an idea. _Maybe that cyndaquil and totodile can help me! They rescued me, after all… I wonder if the pelipper know where they are?_

A large group of pokémon hung around the lobby area, most of them pleading to a jumpluff receptionist about this or that. Some of the grass- or bug-type guards formed a blockade between reception and the crowd.

For a moment, Ryder became distracted with the many voices. Unlike the usual curses he'd hear at this time of day, some pokémon had more… _dire_ stories to tell. One had yet to find a house of their own, while another just wished to take care of an elder…

 _Maybe a rescue team could help them,_ he thought hopefully, approaching the exit - which was guarded by a lone nuzleaf.

"Yo, Ryder! C'mere for a second, will ya'?"

The caterpie jumped, hardly expecting the nuzleaf to call to him. Rushing over to the grass-type, Ryder kept looking back to the group of guests. "What is it, Mister Nuzleaf?"

"I thought y'all were takin' a rest," Nuzleaf said. "What brings ya' here?"

"Uh… Just lookin' for someone," Ryder mumbled, sending another glance to the crowd. "Have you seen a cyndaquil here?"

"'Fraid not, kiddo," the grass-type sighed. "We've been slammed with that there crowd all mornin'. I've yet to see a fire-type here, much less a cyndaquil."

He pulled out a badge from his bag. "Tell ya' what: I can call up a feller o' mine and help ‘er find this cyndaquil. You got a name?"

Ryder blinked, then faltered; the name of the cyndaquil slipped his mind! "Um, uh, his name… I think it was… Rocka— No, wait… Rock-hard?"

Nuzleaf raised a brow. "Rock-hard, huh? Int’resting name… I'll see if someone shows up with that name. Y'all better rest, though."

"Okay…"

As he rounded the corner, the caterpie felt a bitter taste in his mouth. _Maybe I should go find the cyndaquil anyways. I bet I can find him faster than Mom can wake up…_

Despite the rumbling crowd, Ryder could hear Nuzleaf talking through his badge. "...find a cyndaquil named… Yeah, 'Rock-hard'. Prolly some foreign name… Wait, y'know him? What's he…"

The grass-type's face paled. "You saw him over' _where_?! What th' hell was he—?! Is he… y'know…?"

Ryder poked his head around the corner, waiting with bated breath. _Did s-something bad happen?_

"...Good, he's fine. Poor feller must've panicked real hard… Tell 'im Ryder wants ta' see 'im. _Yeah_ , the caterpie… I dunno _why_ he's lookin' for 'im! I— ...Awright. See ya', Cottonwings."

Nuzleaf rubbed his temples while he put away the badge. He mumbled something to himself before trotting towards the hallway Ryder had entered.

The motion caught Ryder off guard, leaving too little time for him to properly react by the time the grass-type came over to him.

"Ah, Ryder!" Nuzleaf exclaimed, a smile stretching across his face. "Thought y’all wandered off again… I know where that Rocard feller is!"

His smile dropped, and he shifted his stance. "The thing is, though… He collapsed near the post office. I dunno how he ended up like _that_ , but he's recoverin' nicely. Are ya' sure ya' wanna go talk to 'im?"

"Yeah!" Ryder determined, adding a firm nod. "It's really _really_ important I talk to him! He helped save me in Tiny Woods!"

Nuzleaf raised a finger, mouth open as if to speak, but he merely rubbed his hand over his face. "...Well I'll be… How about we talk to your mother over seein' Rocard?"

"She's sleeping."

"It's best we talk to 'er anyways." Nuzleaf ushered the bug-type ahead. "Don't want 'er panickin' when she wakes up n' can't find ya'."

Sighing, Ryder followed the dark-type upstairs.

* * *

Rocard awoke to an aching stomach and a distinct alcoholic smell. He felt _awful_ , but something soft tickled his back and arms. This object wrapped over his head, then back again, the stench of alcohol growing stronger.

"There," came a voice, her thick accent breathing down on his neck. "That should take care of those injuries I saw earlier."

He shivered, moving his hands beneath him. "Whuh… Wh-Where am I?"

"You're at the clinic, sweetie," another voice informed, a more airy, soft sound compared to the other person. "Can you sit up?"

"I…" Rocard pulled himself up, opening his eyes and squinting at the flood of light. "Y-Yeah, I'm up. Why am I in…"

In front of him, a swablu stared at him, while an altaria plucked out a few feathers. His eyes widened, but the recollection of the past few hours subdued his shock.

 _Right, right,_ he reasoned. _I'm in a town only inhabited by pokémon. I'm a cyndaquil now, and this world isn't—_

He gagged, sending a pleading glance to the swablu - Saria. "Bag…"

Altaria handed over a paper bag, and Rocard started heaving into it. Nothing came out, assisting him in slowing his breathing back to normal.

"Th-Thanks," he said, crumpling the bag a bit before giving it back to the larger avian.

"You're doing fine, Rocard," Saria assured with a miniscule smile. "Would you like something to eat? We've got a few snacks over here…"

"How did you—?!" Rocard clutched his head, recalling his previous interaction with her - and that he did, in fact, tell her his name. "N-Nevermind. I'm not hungry, thank you."

"It's best that you eat something before you starve," Altaria suggested, hardly facing either of them. "You look rather malnourished, which certainly won't help your body temperature."

The former human furrowed his brow. _What does hunger have to do with body temperature? Come to think of it, it _is_ pretty chilly in this room - probably the tiles, though…_

Regardless, he accepted the offer, taking a single apple from the open pantry and biting into it. The juicy flavor immediately energized him, prompting him to scarf down the rest.

"Saria, I'm going on an errand," Altaria stated. As she rounded the corner, she added, "And the blazer must be out by the time I get back."

Once the door creaked shut, Saria's expression became apologetic. "Don't mind her; she tends to give her patients a bit of tough love. Since plenty of pokémon started acting up, it's been a stressful couple of weeks for everyone here."

"I'm assuming you mean all the fire-types," Rocard noted.

"Well, sorta…" The swablu fidgeted with her wings. "Lots of electric-types and ice-types have been acting strange, too. Up until a few weeks ago, most fire-types were perfectly fine! And then there's…"

While the avian talked up a storm, something stirred within Rocard's memory. _Electric-types… Didn't that totodile say something about not dealing with 'shockers'? Does this have anything to do with that? I thought it was just about the type weakness…_

"...even Team ACT's Charizard was affected! You know it's an epidemic when even experienced teams have trouble dealing with it!"

Rocard glanced back at her. "Who's this 'Team ACT'?"

Beak hanging open, Saria stuttered, "You don't— You don't _know_? Team ACT are the leaders of the Valossian government! Are you not from here?"

"No, I'm not," he mumbled. How could he steer the conversation away from his birthplace?

"Ah, that explains it. So we've got a lot of officials, but they elected…"

_...No persistence? I thought she'd pressure me into—_

The cyndaquil shook his head, tuning out the avian's continued ramblings and staring at the half-eaten apple core once again. _No. No, no, _no_. Get that mindset out of here, Rocard. She's not affiliated with… with _them_._

"...and their team name is an acronym of their species names: Alakazam, Charizard, and Tyranitar! Isn't that neat?"

Rocard dropped the piece of apple. "What the fuck?"

"Uh…" Saria faltered, watching him more closely. “What is it?”

"Does that alakazam talk with the taillow and swellow often?" he asked, shrinking back a little at her sudden attentiveness.

"Er, yes. Alakazam's been communicating with Officer Swellow in place of Charizard." She tilted her head. "Why do you ask?"

"I—"

Resting his head on a hand, Rocard wracked his brain. _Should I tell her what I was doing over there? What was that alakazam trying to do before he gave me that map? Was he going to read my mind? Why would he read the mind of someone he just met?_

A rumble within Saria's wings tore the cyndaquil from his thoughts. The swablu pulled out some object, its shape resembling an egg with wings.

 _Haven't I seen that before?_ Rocard pondered. _Oh, that's right… There was a flag with that on it - only it had a pure gold color instead of this white and pink theme._

Saria paled, bringing the device to her earhole. "Arnie! I didn't expect you to call back so soon! Rocard's awake and— Excuse me for one second…"

Covering the object with a wing, she faced Rocard again. "I have an acquaintance who wishes to speak with you. You don't mind, do you?"

"Sure…?"

"Great!" The avian uncovered her device. "Okay, Arnie, I got Rocard right here."

"About time!" Arnie proclaimed, letting out an audible sigh. "Awright, I've got someone ya' might recognize. Why dontcha' speak up, kid?"

Silence took hold in the room, expecting a response from this fourth person. Eventually, a meek voice spoke up. "H-Hi, Rocard. It's Ryder."

Rocard's breath hitched. "Ryder? Shouldn't you still be sleeping?"

"Y-Yeah," the caterpie admitted, "b-but I really need your help with finding something I lost in Tiny Woods. Momma won't let me go outside until she's had her sleep, so please please _please_ come over here!"

Sighing, Rocard put on a brave face, even with the knowledge that the bug-type couldn't see it. "I'll do it. See you in a bit."

"Thank you so much!" Ryder exclaimed. "Is that totodile gonna be with you, or…?"

"Oh, right…" Rocard deflated, his shoulders sagging. "As far as I know, he's not coming. It'll be just me this time."

"Okay… I'll see you at my place!"

Arnie cleared his throat. "I'll come n' greet y'all at th' Quiver Resort entrance. Y'got that?"

"Got it," the cyndaquil confirmed.

Saria pressed something behind the device, ending the call. She looked at Rocard with a mixed expression.

"Pardon me for asking," she started, "but what did you mean by 'this time'?"

Rocard paled, glancing away and cursing to himself. "N-None of your business."

The swablu frowned, solemnly nodding. "How about we go outside? I can show you where the resort is."

Keeping an eye on her, Rocard rubbed an arm, adding a stiff shrug afterwards.

She's still not pressuring, he noted, a twinge of cynicism plaguing his thoughts. _She already knows by now, doesn't she? If she's writing that paper, she'll put my name in there for everyone to see! Who _wouldn't_ announce the name of someone who did a good deed for all to hear and see?_

_Nobody really thinks of the aftermath, do they?_

He followed the avian out of the clinic, crossing his arms and letting out a small breath through his nose. _There's nothing I can do about that now. All I can do now is help Ryder again and hope this doesn't make major headlines…_


	3. Return

Tony squinted his eyes at one particular form, reading it over again. _This one's really half-baked… How come no one put in a team name for this totodile? Hell, he doesn't even have a _teammate_ on the form! What in the world would possess Alakazam to pass this off as finished?_

Chewing on a bit of glass, he scrutinized the page further, marking its various errors with red ink. _Gah, if only Alakazam were here to explain this…_

A knock on the door interrupted his contemplation. He sighed, putting down the paper.

"I'm coming," he called, sending a reassuring glance at King before standing up.

The tyranitar pulled the door open, greeting a panting taillow, who held a letter in his talons. "Private James? What seems to be the issue?"

"S-Sir!" James sputtered. "I've— I've gotten an update on the fire-type… er, epidemic, sir!"

Tony blinked. Turning to the side and letting the flying-type through, he suggested, "How about you come inside and take a breather?"

James dropped the letter onto the table, perching on a rickety chair. As his breathing stabilized, he looked between Tony and King.

"A-As you may already know," the taillow began, gulping, "fire-types have become substantially more paranoid three weeks ago. Whatever they're fearing, their level of stress is high enough for them to react violently."

"You know I'm _right here_ ," King deadpanned.

"R-Right! Just summing it up for you, sir!" James had trouble keeping himself composed, but the tyranitar's assuring glance spurred him onward. "However, there is— There's evidence to suggest that this epidemic is linked to what happened to both the electric- and ice-types."

Tony furrowed his brow. "Explain, will you?"

Fluttering his wings, James nodded with fervor. "Like the previous two 'waves', all pokémon of a certain type were affected on this continent overnight. _Also_ like the previous two, this wave occurred on the exact same day and month. Each wave increased the amount of negative emotions a particular type experienced.

"Malice, apathy, paranoia…" Shuddering, the avian gulped before continuing. "If this problem happens to more types of pokémon, I fear that Valosse will…"

"Let's not get too ahead of ourselves, shall we?" Tony glanced at the letter. "Is that part of the report?"

"Huh? Oh, that's for the librarian," James clarified. "Her son's getting an official confirmation today."

_The librarian…_

Tony straightened. He picked up the loose form he had studied before the taillow entered. "Give Camilla this and tell her to correct everything marked. Don't give her that confirmation letter until she hands back the revised form."

"Excuse me? What do you mean by—" James studied the form he received, beak falling open. " _Oh_. I'll be sure to follow your instructions, sir. I assure you, I'm just as stumped as you on how this got through."

"Be sure to tell Al about it as well," Tony added.

After exchanging bows, the taillow flapped out of the house, leaving the tyranitar to continue filling out more papers.

Halfway through the stack, smoke trickled its way into Tony's nostrils. He whipped around, spotting King staring into his tail flame. It flickered between orange and cyan before diminishing and turning red.

"C'mon, _work_ , dammit!" King demanded, strangling the tip of his tail. He attempted a second time, dropping the limb and planting his face in his claws when it failed. "For _Arc's sake_ …"

"Your aura mode's still not working," Tony deduced, resting his chin under a claw for a moment to think. "...Are you able to teach me?"

"Wha— No! I mean— You know that will—"

The charizard twirled his claws, attempting to explain but only letting out a sigh. "I'll, uh… _try_ to teach you. Why do you— Why… _now_?"

"Well, I just thought I could help you with those aura readings…" Tony trailed off, internally wincing at his choice of words. "I mean, I know you don't like getting help, but I thought it'd get your mind off of—"

"Okay."

Tony caught himself lost in King's determined expression. " _Well_ then… So, uh, where do we start?"

King grabbed an arm, tugging it closer to the door - was there a smile on his face? "Come with me. We'll need somewhere quiet."

"Uh…"

Glancing over at the unfinished work he left behind, the tyranitar strengthened his resolve. _I still have time to finish that. If this lets me better help King, it's likely worth the investment._

* * *

Quiver Resort, as Saria described it, hardly gave off the appearance of a resort to Rocard. If anything, the rectangular shape and array of similar-looking windows more closely resembled an apartment complex.

Nonetheless, both Arnie and the swablu referred to the towering building as such. The entrance had a somewhat modern touch, with a set of glass sliding doors. Despite these doors clearly having automation in mind, no sensors were present to activate them - as such, the doors were constantly open.

Saria led Rocard into the complex, gazing into a dispersing crowd. She winced. "Ooh, I get what he meant now…"

"What did who mean?" Rocard questioned.

"Oh, sorry! I just— I recalled something Arnie had told me in the past," the avian explained, ruffling her feathers. "I didn't mean to say that out loud."

"Uh-huh…"

Rocard stared at the faces of the pokémon trudging away from the reception desk. Though some scowled while walking past the cyndaquil, others gazed into nothingness with despondence.

He almost reached out to those particular 'mon, but he recognized the kind of despair he saw in those expressions. _What could I say to make them feel better? Whatever news they're receiving, it's got to be earth-shattering._

"Howdy, y'all!"

A nuzleaf waved over and approached the two, his upbeat tone conflicting with the somber atmosphere. Ignoring the irritated glances of passersby, he held out a hand towards Rocard.

"So yer that Rocard feller Ryder's been fawnin' over," the grass-type noted. "The name's Arnie. G'wan, shake it, I don' bite."

Rocard took the hand and gave it a firm shake. "Where _is_ Ryder, by the way?"

"Straight to the point, huh?" Arnie chuckled. He motioned to follow him. "Well, I shouldn' keep ya' waitin'. He's really uptight about keepin' his request a secret, y'know?"

"Really?" the cyndaquil hummed, crossing his arms. After a moment, he looked down and gasped. " _Shit_! I forgot my berries!"

Saria perked up, opening her wings. "I know where they are! You and Arnie go and meet up with Ryder, I'll get those berries!"

Before Rocard could object, the swablu already took to the air, zipping out the lobby. He sighed, setting his eyes on Arnie.

The nuzleaf shrugged, letting out a chuckle. "She ain't been acting like that fer a _long_ time. Thought she grew out of it."

"Huh?"

"Never mind." A smirk tugged at Arnie's face, but it disappeared as soon as it surfaced. "Let's get ta' Ryder before he gets rowdy."

Rocard furrowed his brow. As he followed the dark-type, his mind attempted to process that comment. _Was he referring to Saria retrieving those berries? I would've just left them behind, anyways… He clearly knows her more than I do, so…_

The trip up the first flight of stairs, normally a simple task for the fire-type, only exacerbated his lack of height compared to his human size. Each step reached the bottom of his neck!

When they reached the second floor, Rocard stopped Arnie to take a breather.

"How… many… more _stairs_?" Rocard wheezed, leaning against the wall.

"Well, Ryder's up on the topmost floor, so…" Arnie flicked a hand as if counting. "That's the ninth floor."

Groaning, the cyndaquil sat down and clutched his head. An idea came to him, brightening his mood. "Where's the elevator?"

"The what?"

_Aaand plan ruined._ Rocard exhaled. _So much for… that…_

He stood up, glancing down both sides of the hallway. Though most of the doors looked exactly the same, he started walking over to one end. _There's no way a human apartment wouldn't have an elevator. Not one _this_ tall._

"Hey, hold up a minute!" Arnie called, catching up to the cyndaquil and huffing. "Ya' mention this 'elevay-tor' and start runnin' off! What're y'all even lookin' fer?"

Ignoring the question, Rocard searched the other end - and there it was. The elevator had a few rusty spots on the metal door, but the buttons seemed perfectly fine. If only he could reach it…!

" _This_ hunk o' metal?" Arnie scratched the back of his head. "I'm assumin' yer callin' this an elevator. Whatsit supposed to do, ya' reckon?"

"Can you reach the button right there?" Rocard pointed to the set of buttons beside the door. "The one that's pointing upward?"

"Uh… Sure, buddy."

Pressing the aforementioned button, its white glow caused a smile to creep up Rocard's face. A faint creak echoed from behind the elevator door.

" _Hell_ yeah, it works!" the cyndaquil cheered. He faced Arnie, realizing just how clueless the grass-type looked. "This elevator can carry us to other floors. Hopefully, it'll take us straight to the ninth one."

"Really now?" Arnie noted, quirking a brow. "None of us security ever got ta' workin' on this thing. Everybody just assumed it did nothin', so there wasn't a rush'r anythin'."

The creaking from the elevator slowed, and a light on the door frame flicked on. Soon afterwards, the metal door slid open, revealing a carpeted interior.

Rocard wasted no time in waltzing in, peering over to the set of buttons and spotting one labelled with the number nine… all the way on the topmost row.

He looked to Arnie, but the nuzleaf seemed to already get the unspoken request. Upon pressing the button, the door shut.

"What now?"

As if to answer the dark-type's question, the elevator rattled and chugged, eventually starting its ascent. "Oh."

Rocard analyzed the writing on the various buttons and signs. Unlike the gibberish he saw on the sign at the swellow-shaped building, the text here bore a striking resemblance to Unovan language…

_...This is written in Unovan? Hell, it clearly mentions the maximum capacity!_ He rubbed his eyes, wrapping his head around the possibility. _But— Wait, why is this man-made building in an area full of pokémon? If Unova isn't on this world, why would this be written in _Unovan_?_

His paws went cold. _Am I in the future?_

It would explain the lack of humans. Even the difference in geography would make sense if the time gap was large enough. The kind of society these pokémon lived in heavily resembled human culture. Pokémon would outlast humans tenfold in terms of raw strength and endurance, so humans being extinct here wasn't entirely out of the question…

Just how far in the future _was_ he?

"Er, buddy? The door's open. Y'all okay?"

The cyndaquil jerked his head back up, trying his best to conceal his existentially horrified expression. "Y-Yeah, I'm fine. I'm _fine_."

He doubted this did any good in convincing the grass-type. Nonetheless, Arnie walked out of the elevator without a further response, with Rocard following soon after.

* * *

The walk to Ryder's quarters took a bit, since the elevator had apparently taken them to the wrong side. Rocard took this time to decompress, resting his paws atop his head.

_Okay… It's okay… I can do this. You're not helpless. You don't need help._

A door clicked, opening slowly to reveal Rey holding Ryder in her grasp. Her wings drooped, barely maintaining enough height above the floor.

"What made _that_ sort of racket?" Rey pondered, blinking a few times before her eyes widened. "Oh, hello there! Sorry about my dreary appearance."

Perking up at the sight of the fire-type, Ryder pointed his tail in their direction. "Mister Rocard, you're here! Hey, do you know where Mister Totodile is? He could help, too!"

Rocard grimaced, recalling his last interaction with the totodile. "Um… I don't know where he's at. He probably… just needs a rest."

Arnie placed his hands on the back of his head with a sheepish grin. "Sorry fer the noise, Secretary. Turns out we have these metal rooms called elevators! Rocard, buddy, how 'bout y'all explain?"

Rocard sent an inquisitive glance at the nuzleaf. "Huh? Rey, what kind of secretary are you?"

"Well, I manage finances for this town," the butterfree explained with a yawn. "I also own this resort. It's… stressful, but it keeps my kids and I afloat."

"Really?" Rocard blinked. "...You have more than one kid?"

"Just Ryder and Riley," she clarified. "Riley's my oldest… She might be about your age, actually."

"Um…"

All eyes laid on Ryder, who withered under their gaze. "Can— Can I talk to Rocard alone now?"

"Ryder, honey," Rey began, rubbing an eye, "are you sure you can't talk to me about it?"

"Y-Yeah! It's a _super duper extra big_ secret that belongs to just Rocard and me!"

Arnie raised his hands and slowly backed off. "I'll be in the lobby if y'all need anythin'."

Rey sighed, facing Rocard. "Let's take this inside, shall we?"

The cyndaquil nodded, following the butterfree inside. Truthfully, watching her sluggish movements made him tired as well. Perhaps the chesto he ingested had already begun to wear off?

_I can't afford to sleep yet,_ he chided. _Do the request, then think about finding a place to sleep._

"Would you like some tea?" Rey offered, gesturing over to a worn bundle of firewood. She hesitated for a moment. "...If it's not too much to ask, could you light that up? It saves time from calling room service here."

Rocard's face paled. _Shit, I don't know any fire moves… For a fire-type like me, that would get so many looks— Wait! Cyndaquil learn ember much later, don't they?_

"Uh, sorry, I don't know any fire-type moves." A blush tinted his cheeks. "Still have… I still have a ways to go. You should— Um, don't you need some rest anyways?"

"...You're right," the mother bug-type admitted. She set her son down, telling him, "Ryder, Momma will be sleeping if you need me."

Even with Rey leaving the room, Rocard couldn't stop himself from being embarrassed. He covered his face, feeling the warmth of his cheeks. _Gods, why do I feel like crawling under a rock for the rest of my life? It's just a _move_! I haven't even been a pokémon for a day…_

"I'm sorry!"

Rocard nearly jumped out of his skin. He lifted his head and faced the caterpie "What? What for?!"

Catching his breath, Ryder turned away. "Okay, okay, I said it… I'm sorry I didn't talk to you… when you were rescuing me."

"Huh?" Rocard bit his lip. "N-No, I probably seemed like a threat to you! You were being cautious, and I can't blame you for that!"

"But… But you looked so _sad_ …"

The cyndaquil faltered. "...It's okay. You said you needed help with something. What was it?"

"Um, it's…" Ryder took a deep breath. "I lost something very special in Tiny Woods… It's all I have to remember Papa with! Momma doesn't wanna talk about Papa - she gets mad whenever I mention him! So I wrapped it in silk, and now I keep it with me all the time… But now it's _gone_!"

Tears trickled from the bug-type's eyes. "C-Can you please… _Please_ , can you go find it?"

"Of course!" Rocard stated without missing a beat. "I'll get it as soon as possible!"

"Really…?" Ryder beamed, tackling the fire-type. "Thank you thank you _thank you_! I— Oh, lemme get something real fast!"

Before Rocard could object, the caterpie had already left the room, coming back with a large seed.

"What's this?" He inspected the yellow seed, eyeing the frayed tip.

"It's a blast seed!" Ryder explained. "You eat it, and then you spew it out, and then it goes _kaboom_! Well, that's what Momma said it does. She grows lots of cool seeds!"

Rocard hummed. "Interesting. Thank you, I'll keep that in mind. I'm gonna go now."

"Bye! Please do your best!"

As the cyndaquil entered the hallway, his cheeks flushed for a different reason altogether. _He's gonna grow up to be a great pokémon, I just _know_ it._

He took another glance at the blast seed in his paws. Soon, he recalled something. "Saria's waiting to give me those berries, isn't she?"

Hurrying over to the elevator, Rocard jumped up to press the button, impatiently waiting for the trolley…

_…?_

Did he hear footsteps just now? He looked to both ends of the hallway, but his search proved fruitless. _Maybe I shouldn't be so paranoid._

* * *

King led Tony to the peaks of Mount Cleft, much to the latter's confusion. While the journey took the better half of an hour, it ensured no noise from the town's citizens would reach them; King emphasized the importance of such silence until the tyranitar stopped talking about it.

As a bonus, the charizard could see his former home amidst the shrubbery on the area below - granted, it barely stood the test of time, since he could only see a small chunk of the house. It still gave a bit of much needed peace in his mind.

Even with the nostalgia of looking over the remains of his home, King couldn't shake the feeling of utter dread. _Alakazam is going to _kill me_ for this… But I can't let our mentor's training go to waste. His technique was _meant_ to be shared, wasn't it?_

He snatched his tail and lifted it between him and Tony. "Alright. The first thing to know about reading aura… You'll need to be able to concentrate for extended periods of time. It can take a lot out of you at first, but over time, it gets easier."

"What should I concentrate on?" Tony inquired, his gaze resting on the flame.

King glanced at his tail flame, then back to the tyranitar. "...My tail should be a good target for the time being. Try to focus like you're using a move, but don't attack. Just keep your eyes strictly on my tail."

Loosening his grip on the appendage, King stared into Tony's eyes. Something about the way they squinted and narrowed left him mesmerized. After some time of holding the tail, he dropped it to the ground and let it move around.

Tony didn't miss a beat, trailing the charizard's tail with his eyes only - he didn't otherwise move a muscle.

“You should feel… _something_ ,” King explained, fumbling with his words. “I don’t know how best to put it. Dark-type energy is one of the easier types to transfer into aura, alongside fighting and psychic.”

Despite the professionalism intended, King couldn't help but awe at his teammate's dedication… among _other_ things. The fire-type's face slowly heated up from the little thoughts prodding at his stern appearance.

_Just keep concentrating…_ he silently ushered, forming the thought into a mantra. _Just keep concentrating… Keep concentrating…_

The charizard looked into his teammate's eyes, partially to determine how aura reading affected their color. However, he found himself enraptured by the new color. _...They're… such a— such a beautiful shade of red. It's like my own… f-flame is st-staring back at me—_

"I think… I think I can see it now."

King nearly gasped, but he masked it by clearing his throat. "Y-You do? That was fast. What color do you see around me?"

_Great Arc, he couldn't have gotten it that quickly!_ he panicked. _Something that took years for me to understand works for him in minutes—_

"It looks like…" Tony blinked a few times. "Damn. I _just_ had it… I saw some yellow."

"Pastel yellow?"

Though he couldn't show it, the charizard felt oddly relieved that the aura reading stopped working for his teammate. _There'd be no reason to do something like this again… But didn’t I just talk about how dark-types have it easier?_

"I _think_ so…" the rock-type tilted his head, resting it on a claw. "But I saw a bright green outline somewhere as well. Where did I spot it…"

The color drained from King's face. _A bright green aura… That doesn't belong to mine or Tony's._

"Somebody's here." King whipped around, snarling. "Show yourself!"

A rustle came from the bushes below. The charizard stomped over to the ledge, glaring down at whoever may appear. After a few moments of silence, he unsheathed a claw. "Don't make me come down there!"

The shuffling continued, and the fire-type could see the frontmost plants lean away from the intruder. His scowl remained firm - until the perpetrator showed its face.

Standing petrified, with leaves and sticks protruding from its hair, was a deino.

"I-I'm sorry for— for scaring you!" the tiny dragon blurted, covering his snout with a paw. He then mumbled something indistinguishable from the soft breeze. "I'm just looking for somebody!"

King continued his growling until Tony placed a claw in front of him. The tyranitar looked at him with a pleading expression.

"We should help him find who he's looking for," Tony stated, clutching the fire-type's hand and pulling it with him. "It's the least we can do."

"Don't you remember what happened at Mount Freeze?" King protested.

The rock-type slowed down, heaving a great sigh. "That was fifteen years ago. We don't know if this deino is part of their clan. They don't even have a settlement on Mount Cleft - besides, we'd overpower him if he _did_ decide to attack us! Seriously, just look at him! Does he look like he can do any harm?"

“You don’t—”

He turned to lock eyes with King. "Isn't it our job as a rescue team to help pokémon in need?"

King opened his mouth to object, but a few choice words rang in his head. _He doesn't know. Right… Al, you better know what you're doing._

Eventually, he responded with a slow nod.

When they landed by the foliage, Tony leaned down to face the deino better. "So who is it you're looking for?"

"I'm looking for a cyndaquil!" the deino answered, sniffing Tony's foot and sighing. "I wish I could see you… But as long as you can help, I won't mind!"

"A cyndaquil…"

Tony looked over to King, staring at him for a bit before shrugging. "Do you have a name for this cyndaquil?"

"Oh! Yeah, his name is… Uh… I forgot, but that doesn't matter!" The dragon-type pranced over to King, sniffing at him as well. "It's _really really important_ that I find him - or that's what the nice lady said… She's really kind! You gotta meet her someday!"

The charizard gazed at Tony, mouthing, " _Help_."

Chuckling, Tony lightly pushed the deino away. "Did this lady tell you where to meet him?"

"I think she said to look near Tiny Woods…" He frowned, scratching the base of his neck in thought. "But I can't see a thing. This place _kinda_ smells like a forest, but I haven't heard anybody until you two came along! Do you know where the tiny woods are? If they're that small, I _definitely_ would've missed them— Pfft, _wood've_ missed them? Eh? _Eh_?"

King scowled at the terrible pun. "Tiny Woods is a mystery dungeon, little Deino. You're on Mount Cleft, which is east of there."

"...Is _that_ what I am?" the dragon muttered. He shook his head. "How long will it take to get to Tiny Woods?"

"Er…" Tony furrowed his brow. "About thirty minutes. It might take a bit longer, though."

"Then what are we waiting for?" Deino exclaimed, his cheeriness coming back in full force. "Let's go to Tiny Woo— Mmph!"

He ran headfirst into a stump, but he shook off the injury as if it never happened. The deino faced Tony and King with a grin. "Well? C'mon!"

King looked to his partner for potential advice… All he got in return was a helpless shrug.

The deino's choice of words struck him as odd, however. _How does he not know his own species?_

* * *

Camilla perused through her selection of books, making certain they all laid in their proper order. She picked out a couple that had singe marks, gazing at each cover before tossing them into a bin.

_That's unfortunate,_ she silently commented, lifting up an almost unrecognizable kids' book. _This used to be my favorite! How am I to read this to Lilac now?_

A pair of wings fluttered nearby, bringing the feraligatr's attention to the front. James soared over a few bookcases, dragging along a letter.

"Missus Camilla!" the taillow beckoned. "I've got something—"

"Will you _hush_?" Camilla chided, holding a claw to her lips. "This is a library, you know. I hope that's my son's confirmation you've got there."

"Er, about that…"

Narrowing her eyes, the water-type took the letter. She tore it open with a claw, surveying the numerous red marks on it.

She forced a sigh down her throat, instead humming curiously. _Figured this would happen. Now, to execute the next step…_

"How did this draft get in here? I could've sworn I threw it out…"

James blinked. "Do you have the final copy with you?"

"I do not," Camilla stated. "I hardly bring any personal belongings to work - it'd be a pain if I lost anything within a book collection _this_ large, wouldn't it?"

"...Fair enough." Resting on the feraligatr's snout, he gave her a stern look. "Just be sure to send it by sundown today, ma'am."

She nodded with vigor, grinning at the taillow barely maintaining his balance. "Is that all, little guy?"

Blushing, James huffed, flapping his wings. "D-Don't call me that."

"Whatever you say."

As the avian left, Camilla snickered away. _Oh, how fun it is to tease him…_

She looked at the charred book once more, this time opening it up. Unlike the cover, the pages were mostly unharmed. _Hm… I could add this to Lilac's shelf. She would want to know about the Ascendant's companions, wouldn't she?_

"...and come to think of it, that blazer didn't seem too bad. Okay, he _did_ look a bit anxious, but can you blame him?"

Camilla lifted her head, spotting Lombre and Bellsprout conversing with one another. While they sat at one of the tables, she inched a little closer, pretending to browse the bookshelf some more.

Something about the topic intrigued her. _A fire-type that isn't overly paranoid… Now where did I hear that before?_

"I dunno, Mido," Bellsprout said, "what pokémon calls clinics 'pokémon centers'?"

"Eh, could be a cultural thing." Mido inspected his claws, wiping away some dirt. "It'd explain why I've never seen that cyndaquil before— I hadn't _seen_ one until then, but you get what I mean, right?"

"Mm… Perhaps…"

Gasping softly, Camilla remembered why that sounded so familiar. _That has to be the cyndaquil Lockjaw mentioned!_

She walked out of the aisle and approached the grass-types as casually as she could. "Good morning, Lombre, Bellsprout. Are you enjoying your time here?"

"Yeah, it's fine." Mido sat up a little more to place an elbow on the table. "Do you know any books that mention pokémon centers?"

Camilla shook her head, showing an apologetic frown. "I'm afraid I don't. What got you thinking about that?"

"Some cyndaquil said it," Bellsprout answered with a raised leaf. "Or, well, that's what Lombre's claiming."

"Hm…" The feraligatr shifted her weight to her other foot. "My son was with him last night, actually. He wanted to start a rescue team with the fire-type, but I'm having a little trouble contacting him."

" _Really_?" Mido stood up, much to Bellsprout's confusion. "I'll see if he's at the clinic. Got nothing better to do, anyhow. Wanna come along, Lark?"

"Er— I still have to—"

"Oh, right. You're _still_ working that job?"

"It's not— It's the only job I've had for this long!" Lark exclaimed. "I can't risk losing another one now!"

Mido pinched his brow. "...Okay, okay, sorry. Good luck with that."

With the lombre leaving, Camilla returned to her work - though not before sending a sympathetic glance at the bellsprout.

As she did, however, Lark stood up and approached her. "Before I, uh, go back to work, I just have a question."

"Go ahead," Camilla said, flashing a brief smile.

"Do you have any books detailing the members of Wigglytuff's Guild?"

The water-type pursed her lips, thinking it over. "There _should_ be one… That guild resides in Gratuin, doesn't it?"

"It _did_ , at one point," Lark confirmed, shaking a leaf, "but I heard that guild disbanded a few years back. I'd travel over there, but the blockade's still going on…"

Camilla grimaced at the mention of the blockade. Luckily, she recalled a particular book before she could delve her thoughts into _that_ mess. "I think I know just the book. Come along."

She guided the bellsprout closer to the back of the library, reaching high for a massive textbook. Pulling it down, she scanned the insides to double-check it had the right information.

"Ah, here we are," she stated. "This section's all about Wigglytuff's apprentices. Would you like to check out, or…"

Realizing Lark could have trouble carrying such a hefty book, she cleared her throat to change her tune. "Let's wait until Lombre comes back. I don't know how well you would handle this."

"No, it's fine." Lark extended a pair of vines and grasped the book. Surprisingly for his little body, he lifted the book above his head with little effort. "I can check it out."

"...Well, I'll be damned." Camilla crossed her arms, smirking. "Maybe waiting those tables _did_ help your strength."

The grass-type deadpanned, but he didn't otherwise respond to that comment.

As they returned to the front, however, Mido came back in a rush, eyes wide.

"That cyndaquil's gone to Tiny Woods!" he exclaimed.

Camilla furrowed her brow, recalling Lockjaw's story before raising them. "I see. I’ll be right back."

She hurried around the corner, picking up her badge and dialing for Greyson.

* * *

Rocard wiped his forehead instinctively, feeling a distinct absence of sweat. He leaned against the rickety sign just in front of Tiny Woods, passing a glance at Saria. _Alright… Just go through here again and find Ryder's little trinket. Sounds simple enough._

Memories of his encounter with the feral sunkern surfaced in his mind. _...Okay, maybe it's not _that_ simple. I should be able to use tackle, right? That would definitely increase my chances of success… if only I knew how to use it._

"You sure you don't need help going through the dungeon?"

Shaking his head, Rocard gestured to the bag Saria had given him. "I'm sure. This shouldn't involve you more than it already has…"

He lifted the bag off his shoulders. While the material had a few mismatched patches, the bag seemed functional. "Besides, these items should be enough to get by."

In it were the remaining berries Rey awarded him - a cheri, rawst, and an oran - as well as the blast seed he received from Ryder…

...Now that he had taken a better look at his items, he noticed a pink letter amidst the fruits. The writing, much like most signs he saw, was indecipherable. _Strange… Maybe Saria left this by accident?_

"Well, good luck, then…" the avian relented. "Be safe, alright?"

The cyndaquil gazed at her before slinging the bag back over his head, stepping into the mystery dungeon. _She probably wants me to read this, doesn't she? I'll worry about that later. Find the trinket and get out of here._

Unlike the previous trip through here, he encountered more wild pokémon during this trek; pidgey, wurmple, sunkern… Sometimes, they'd attempt to ambush him whenever he entered the room!

When he made it to the third floor, hordes of exeggcute joined the fray. Luckily, the ferals seemed to focus on each other more than the cyndaquil - unless they saw him.

For some reason, the wurmple mostly became the main aggressors while Rocard explored this floor. Despite this curiosity - as well as the fact that the pidgey all but disappeared - he thought best not to question it. _They're weak enough to take down with only a few hits… Maybe I can practice on them._

He approached one of the wurmple, sneaking up on it before ramming his head against the bug-type. It reeled back from the attack, but it stood its ground, whipping around and performing a string shot attack.

Rocard attempted to avoid it by jumping, though upon landing, the silk stuck to his feet and latched them to the ground. _Dammit…_

As the wurmple crept closer, the cyndaquil readied a fist. It leaped at him, but he countered with a hook to the face. Rocard watched it fade away after the blow, leaving him to wrestle the string off of his feet.

He wiped his brow, still feeling not a single bead of sweat. _That's weird… Why am I not— Ohh… I'm a fire-type, aren't I? I don't sweat in the traditional sense._

The former human couldn't help but find the prospect fascinating. What else would he be able to do that wasn't an option before his transformation? His mind wandered freely, exploring those differences like the dungeon he was walking through…

...Until that train of thought collapsed by encountering a pair of pidgey in front of the stairs.

Rocard sidestepped an incoming tackle, but the other pidgey struck him head on. He recoiled from the hit, backing away.

"Sh-Shit, you hit _hard_ ," he commented, eyeing the hallway behind him. "...But can you both fit in there?"

Dashing into the tunnel, he watched the two pidgey chase after him… and bump into each other when they attempted to converge. Their unintelligible bickering slightly amused him, giving him just enough leeway to prepare an attack.

He managed a solid whack to the leading avian's beak, but it still kept after him. It charged another tackle, which Rocard barely avoided by ducking his head at the last second.

The fire-type let out a ragged breath, watching the pidgey a little closer. _How does it use tackle? If I can't replicate the attack, I doubt I can last against the other one. Let's see…_

As he continued his dodging, Rocard picked apart the motions the flying-type made. He soon tried a tackle of his own, putting the energy into his shoulder and ramming it into his enemy.

Letting out a shrill squawk, the first pidgey went down.

Rocard's jaw went agape. "Holy fuck… Did— Did I do it right?"

He felt something hit him from behind, knocking the air out of his lungs. _Oh, right, the other one's still here._

Once he pushed himself up to one knee, he felt an uncomfortable heat rise to his throat. He gagged, coughing up a cloud of smoke. This cloud obscured both his vision and the opposing pidgey's.

_Augh, that was _awful_ …_ The cyndaquil took a bit to recover. _Is that what it feels like to use smokescreen? Now I kinda feel bad for Koal…_

Rocard ushered the thought out of his head as quickly as he could. Instead, he used the smoke to rush straight ahead, breaking out of the clouds and approaching the stairs.

His heart threatened to pound out of his chest. Once he reached the staircase, he collapsed onto his stomach.

"Hah… Arc almighty…" He started chuckling. This soon devolved into maniacal laughter, followed by coughing. "I am _so royally fucked_. I can't— I can't feel my legs…"

But he stood up regardless of the pain. He was so _close_ to his goal. This was the end of the dungeon! Ryder's precious item _had_ to be here!

Looking around, Rocard caught a glint to his left…

A flaaffy raised something towards the sunlight, its surface reflecting rays in the cyndaquil's direction.

"I've got you now…" it muttered with an eerily serene expression. Sparks trickled down its paws. "Sweet, sweet _platinum_. How could you rot to such an unsightly _bronze_ …"

_Wait…_

Rocard scowled. He _knew_ this pokémon. " _What_ are you doing here?"

The electric-type slowly turned to him, flashing a wicked grin. "Just taking what isn't his."

"Uh…" Rocard blinked a couple of times. "...What the _fuck_ are you going on about?"

"This doesn't belong in that _pest's_ grasp," the flaaffy explained, as if it were obvious. He spat out the mention of Ryder with unrestrained anger. "It doesn't belong _anywhere_. An artifact that shouldn't hold any meaning."

Faltering, Rocard held his bag closer. "Then why do you have it?"

"...To destroy it, naturally."

With a faint sigh, Rocard readied himself for a fight. _Damn. Thought that'd mess with him._

The flaaffy tightened his grip on the object, and an all too familiar aura flowed from the arm to the rest of his body, outlining him with a mix of purple and black. His arms crackled with electricity.

Rocard's eyes widened. "N-No…"

" _Yes_ ," Flaaffy argued. "This little _trinket_ is nothing but a dead weight! By my hands, I will—"

He couldn't bother to listen to any more words. Rocard fixed his gaze on the dark aura, all the while slowly crumbling in his stance. His mind reeled from the possibility that they…

_No no _no_ , they can't be here oh God please tell me this is just a nightmare and everything will be fine and I'm a human again please—_

Rocard curled up, breaking eye contact to stare at his arms. Trembling. Whimpering.

_I failed to stop them._

The thought came with a sudden calm, freezing him in place. He began scratching at his arms furiously.

_I failed to prevent more from spreading. More shadows are _here_! This is the _worst possible outcome_! There's no way I can make this up for anyone. Everyone's gonna hate me… and— and it's all my _fault_!_

He had no spirit left to fight. What could he do now? There was no salvaging this. No relics or chambers to help him. _Nothing._

A strike to the head knocked him out cold.


	4. Sucker Punch

"Naptime's over, Lockjaw!"

Lockjaw woke up with a jolt, groaning at his father's booming voice. "Can't it wait _five more minutes_ , Dad?"

"Nope!" Greyson denied, swinging the door open. "Your mother needs you, pronto! C'mon, up, up, up!"

The totodile glared daggers at the dragonite, pushing himself up and shrugging off his sheets. He scraped some flakes of ice off his arm with a huff.

 _Still haven't figured out how to stop doing that while I sleep…_ he noted. _Maybe I should've learned ice _beam_ instead._

As he gathered the brand new bag and scarf, Greyson leaned against the frame. "That cyndaquil's gone into Tiny Woods again. If we hurry, you can catch him as he leaves the dungeon."

Lockjaw blinked, mouth agape. "...Can we just take our time, then?"

"Your mother still has to make sure you can start your team properly," the dragonite added, pointing to the bag. "You can't do rescue team business if you don't have a badge - and you know why it's called a rescue _team_ , don't you?"

" _Gah_ …"

The water-type buried his face in the defense scarf. When he lifted his head, he let out a long sigh. "Okay, _fine_ , let's just go."

Scooping up the totodile, Greyson shared his typical grin and barrelled down the hall. Lockjaw hung tightly to his father's horn, shutting his eyes for the remainder of the trip.

 _Why did he go back in there?_ the totodile pondered. _Wasn't the mission to rescue Caterpie? If we succeeded, why did he bother to return? And _alone_ , at that?_

* * *

Saria sat perched atop the sign before Tiny Woods, shifting her stance every so often. After returning to the entrance, she had expected Rocard to return by now. _Did something happen? This isn't a large dungeon, but if he hasn't come back yet… Perhaps he encountered a monster house? No, wait, I don't recall any of those occurring here—_

A piece of the wooden sign broke off, startling her into the air. Despite the formidable foundation, it had to have been built long ago - perhaps before Tiny Woods became a mystery dungeon?

 _Yeah, this dungeon doesn't have any monster houses,_ she remembered, frowning. _Maybe… Maybe I should go look for him. If he isn't part of a rescue team, he doesn't have a proper badge to help him escape!_

_Then again, I left mine back at the clinic…_

Her feathers ruffled at the thought of fainting while searching for him. She considered reporting this to the rescue board, but that hit a snag as well. _What if he's just taking a while? I'd be putting up a request while he walks out and wonders where I am…_

With a deep breath, Saria fluttered into the dungeon. Because she had lent her bag to Rocard, she had nothing to hold any items she came across. Despite this inconvenience, the avian pressed on, avoiding any wild pokémon she saw.

The first and second floors went by without incident. As she went to the final staircase…

A pidgey laid in front of her, unconscious. This struck her as an odd case - wild pokémon that fainted usually disappeared after a short while. She landed in front of it, curiosity scratching at the back of her mind.

_How is this one still here?_

In her pondering, a burst of heavy wind knocked her off her talons. The swablu went into panic mode, all her instincts ordering her to fly away _this instant_. She landed atop the staircase, but her desire to know what made this pidgey stay here kept her from descending.

Then, the pidgey slowly sat up, rubbing its head. "...Gods, I will _never_ drink that juice again. That has _got_ to be the worst fever dream I… had?"

She perked up, taking a closer look at her surroundings. "Wh-What in Giratina's name? Did I really— Was that… not a dream?"

As the pidgey struggled to form more coherent sentences, Saria hopped quietly over to her.

"E-Excuse me, ma'am…"

The pidgey whipped around, eyes wide. "What— Are you a savage—"

She clutched her head, wincing. "Oh, my head…"

"I'm not a wild, ma'am," Saria explained. "You're on the third floor in Tiny Woods. I can try to help you get out - the stairs are right here - but we need to hurry. What's your name—"

As if on cue, the wind picked up again, sending chills through the both of them. Saria gestured to the stairs.

"—And do you need help getting out of the dungeon?"

"It's Jasmine— Wait a second…" The pidgey glanced around before scowling. " _Jeremy_! Where the hell are you, you— You _bastard_!"

"H-Hey, how about we quiet down—"

"No!" Jasmine hissed. "He's the one who pulled me into this mess! Augh, this is the worst date _ever_! Get _over here_ , Jeremy!"

Silence followed her outburst. The pidgey seemed about to burst a vessel, but she took to the air to look over the room.

Unable to find Jeremy, Jasmine let out a frustrated caw. "We're _through_ , you hear me?! I don't want to see your shoddy beak _ever again_!"

Letting out an exasperated sigh at the pidgey's insistence on denouncing Jeremy, Saria backed further into the stairs. "Jasmine, we _really_ should get—"

The ground trembled beneath her, cutting the pidgey's bickering short. Jasmine looked between the swablu and the stairs.

"...Right, we really need to go," Saria repeated. "I don't know how long it will be until this dungeon reorganizes itself."

With the other flying-type in tow, she finally descended the staircase. The floor in front of her was completely barren - all except for one little thing:

Rocard, unconscious, laid in the center of the room, curled into a ball.

Saria gasped, flapping over to him and checking for any wounds. Part of his fur stood on end, faint arcs of static jumping across his body. His arms had spots of dried blood. Though it was tough to see through the fur, she determined the scratch marks to be the cause of the bleeding.

Her eyes watered, letting out a cough. Rocard had some excess smoke coming out of his pores.

"You're going to be okay, Rocard," she muttered, even if the cyndaquil couldn't hear her. "You'll be out of here in no time…"

Turning to the pidgey - still bad-mouthing Jeremy - she exclaimed, "I need your help carrying him out of here! _Please_ , can you just quit talking about your former boyfriend for one _minute_ here?"

Jasmine shut her beak, her initial glare at the swablu morphing into shock upon seeing Rocard. "Hey, that's the guy that got me out of that funk!"

Hopping over to the fire-type, she spun Rocard onto his back and grabbed his legs - though not before recoiling from a jolt of static. "Yeesh. That shocker must've done a real number on him."

Saria perked up. "You know who attacked him?!"

"Uh, _duh_ ," the pidgey stated in a matter-of-fact tone. "...Well, prolly not _exactly_. My memory's still a little foggy from last night. Or was it the night before?"

Letting loose a sigh, the swablu eyed the stairs. "I'm sure we can talk about this after we get out of here."

"Right…"

They fluttered toward the stairs, but before they could climb the first step, Jasmine whipped her head back to the center of the room.

"I think you might be missing something," she noted.

"Hm?" Saria followed the other avian's gaze, spotting the bag she had lent to Rocard. "Oh, right! I almost forgot about that!"

After letting the cyndaquil down and retrieving her bag, she nodded to Jasmine. "Alright, let's go!"

* * *

Shielding his eyes from the afternoon sun, Tony led King and the deino over a winding river north of town. While his fire-type partner could soar over the stream, the tyranitar had to endure the rushing water.

In his claws, Deino took in a breath and smiled. "Ahh… Hey, can we play in the water for a bit?"

"Er… _Why_?" Tony asked incredulously. "Don't we need to get to your friend? I'm all for a little break, but I thought something like this would be urgent."

"I'm sure he's fine!" The dragon-type looked up to him, his voice taking on a pleading tone. "C'mon, just for a minute or two?"

Tony sighed, glancing up at King and beckoning him down. With a resigned expression, he said "The kid wants to play in the water. What do you think?"

" _What_? Tony, do I _look_ like I want to join you—"

A splash caught both of them off guard. At some point, Deino had jumped out of the tyranitar's grasp and into the river. Granted, the water wasn't fast enough to sweep him away, but it still pressured Tony into reaching down and scooping up the little dragon.

"Hey! Don't get—" Tony tried to suppress his worry with a slight frown. "Don't do that again, alright? We still have a ways to go. Let's try not to make it any longer."

"Why not? I bet I could beat you in a race down the river!" Deino argued. He huffed, puffing his cheek and turning away. "It won't be that long…"

Tony hesitated, glancing at King. The wide river led just outside of town, but he figured the charizard wouldn't accept that technicality.

"Sorry kid," the rock-type muttered. "This river is… a little too rough for someone your size. You'd get knocked senseless if you go down."

He tensed his arms, making sure the deino didn't escape. It felt like a punch to the stomach lying through his teeth in such a way, but if it meant the difference between succeeding or failing a mission…

Fortunately, Deino bought the lie without any complaints. "Oh, alright… Hey, can you lift the hair from my face?"

"...Er, sure."

Before he did so, Tony spent a moment to gaze at his teammate. King had his brow furrowed, staring into nothing.

 _I should ask about that later,_ the tyranitar decided.

Raising the deino's bangs, Tony peered into a pair of green irises amidst a black sclera. "Can you see anything?"

"Ooh! You look tough!" the dragon exclaimed with a wide smile. He turned to face King. "And you too! That's so _cool_! If someone as big and tough as you two are protecting me… Boy am I glad!"

Was it just him, or did Tony notice King blushing? The rock-type shooed that thought away, gesturing to his teammate. "Well, we _are_ the top team here. You can count on us!"

"Yeah…" Glancing between the two, Deino's mouth hung open. "I bet you two are _best_ buddies!"

King's blush only deepened, drawing the attention of Tony.

"Are you feeling alright?" he asked.

Deino's smile dropped, and he tilted his head in confusion. "What's that gray stuff around you?"

Tony and King stared at each other, bewildered by the response. Looking down at the little dragon, Tony asked, "What… gray stuff?"

"It's like there's a big yellow outline," the deino described, "but some of it's gray instead…"

Perking up, Deino hopped out of the tyranitar's grasp and approached King. "I know! Maybe a big ol' hug should help!"

"...How's that supposed to help?" King grumbled.

"Easy!"

Deino stood on his hind legs, spreading his forelegs across the charizard's belly.

Seeing the blush rise into King's cheeks, Tony let out a small chuckle. "Maybe he's onto something. How about I join?"

"Huh?" King's face grew redder by the second. "Wait wait _wait a minute_ —"

Tony went behind the fire-type and wrapped his arms around him. The three stood in silence for a good minute, and Tony could feel King's heart beating like a drum over the lapping water.

It… felt _right_ to him, in an odd way.

Releasing the charizard from his embrace, Tony noticed a blissful expression on his teammate's face. The blush had yet to diminish from King's cheeks, however; in fact, it had deepened to an extent the tyranitar had yet to see before.

"Okay, that’s gotta work!" Deino backed up and returned to his quadrupedal stance. He lifted a foreleg to divert his hair enough to watch with one eye. "...Well, there's still a _little_ bit of gray, but _definitely_ less than before! See, what’d I tell you?"

King's eyes snapped open, and he wiped his snout with the back of his hand. "I— Wh— ...That was… _something_ , alright."

"Yeah, it was certainly something," Tony agreed, a warm smile stretching across his face. "If it helps you calm down, we could do that again sometime."

The charizard straightened, his blush coming back in full force. "I— Uh— You really think—"

Noticing a bit of blood trickling down from the fire-type's nostrils, Tony frowned and reached up to wipe it off. "Hm… We should take a look at that when we can. Let's make sure Deino finds his cyndaquil buddy for the time being."

As he walked over to pick up the deino once again, the tyranitar kept an eye on King. _This isn't like him - even with the paranoia wave, he hasn't quite acted like this. Perhaps Doctor Altaria would know…_

* * *

" _Hwaaugh_!"

Rocard scrambled to get up on his feet, backing up into a tree and shielding his face—

_A tree?_

His shallow breathing only hastened while he used a hand to feel the bark scraping against his back. _Where the hell am I? Why the _fuck_ am I here?! Am I dead?! I-I _have_ to be dead, there's no way—_

"Rocard!"

The former human yelped, his eyes snapping open. In front of him was a swablu - _Saria?_ \- with her wings folded.

 _That's— That's right…_ he recalled. _I'm still a cyndaquil, I was retrieving something Ryder had lost, I know this isn't the world I'm used to, and I—_

He felt tears drip onto the dirt ground. _And shadow pokémon— They're still around, despite— despite my attempts at st-stopping— stopping…_

"Rocard, it's okay," Saria assured, inching a bit closer.

' _How can you say it's okay?!_ ' he wanted to shout. In fact, his mouth moved as if to say it, but his vocal cords refused to cooperate. ' _Do you know how much effort I put into stopping the creation of more shadow pokémon? All that work, _gone_! Wasted! And it's _my_ fault I couldn't do a _damn_ thing about it!_'

Despite the lack of substance in his voice, he still provoked a fearful expression from the avian. He started feeling guilty about his outburst. _Why did I do that? She— She wouldn't understand… How could some _stranger_ like her understand… I shouldn't be burdening her with something like that, I just…_

"...Rocard," Saria began with a solemn frown, "whatever happened there had to have been rough on you. If… If you don't want to talk about it, I can't force you to. That being said…"

She extended a wing, pointing at his arms. "You suffered a rather hard hit to the head; I think you may have a concussion. I did what I could to lessen the injury, and I bandaged up your arms - the wounds there seemed recent. Did you at least complete Ryder's request?"

For a moment, Rocard contemplated lying to her beak and saying yes. Fixing his gaze on his bandaged arms, he sighed. _I can't… She'd just ask what the item was. I'm pretty sure that flaaffy stole it… Was it a badge?_

"No…" he muttered, shaking his head.

"...That's okay," she reassured firmly. "If what happened there shook you up _this_ badly, I wouldn't be surprised if the mission didn't go as planned."

"But what will I tell Ryder?" Rocard asked. "He'd be crushed!"

He clutched his head, feeling a wave of pain surging through it. _Damn, she wasn't kidding about the concussion… Was I hit when— when I encountered… that guy?_

Rocard let out a small grunt. "Sh-Shit…"

Saria glanced at the cyndaquil, concern present in her eyes. "Rocard, your head—"

Before Rocard could react, the swablu pulled him into an embrace. "Oh, Rocard… I should've gone with you, even when you denied it! I could've gone in sooner, but I wasn't sure how quickly you'd return! How were either of us going to know something like this would happen?"

The cyndaquil struggled free, sending her a despondent expression. "If anyone's to blame here, it's me. You don't have to beat yourself up about it like I do."

"You didn't know any better than I did!" she argued, her voice cracking. "You can't blame yourself any more than I can!"

Rocard lowered his head and turned away. _That's easy for you to say… If you had gone through what I had, you wouldn't be arguing over who carries the most blame here._

"Are you done yet?"

Jolting his head up into the trees, he noticed a pidgey furrowing her brow. What the hell…

"I'll take that as a yes." The pidgey hopped down, landing between Rocard and Saria. She faced the cyndaquil with a smile. "Thank you for knocking some sense back into me. Call me Jasmine!"

"I— _Huh_?" Rocard sputtered. "Who the hell are you?"

"She's someone who I assume you knocked out in the dungeon," Saria clarified, earning a glare from the pidgey. She glanced back with a flat expression. "That _is true_ , isn't it?"

The fire-type shook his head a little, trying to piece the puzzle together. "But how is that even possible? How many pokémon are like her in there? How do those pokémon end up savage? Why haven't others ended up like Jasmine here when I knock them out?"

Jasmine ruffled her wings, scoffing. "Rude! And here I thought you were a decent 'mon. I didn't act like that on _purpose_! It's got something to do with that strange mystery dungeon mojo I hear scientists fuss over."

"Er, right," Saria supported, letting out a nervous laugh. "There's _some_ evidence I’ve heard about that, whenever these dungeons shift their landscape, anyone caught wandering around during that time gets… consumed by the dungeon. Like Jasmine."

Mouth hanging open, Rocard grunted in disgust. " _That's_ awful… Is there any way to avoid that?"

"Reaching a safe zone - like the last floor of any dungeon - keeps you safe, as the name suggests," the swablu informed. "Team badges also automatically detect when this shift occurs and ejects the holder from the dungeon. Not everyone has a badge, though, and getting one is… rather _difficult_."

"...Huh?" Rocard tilted his head. "Why would it be difficult?"

Saria glanced at the fire-type, concentrating. "Well, rescue teams have very strict guidelines and requirements. There aren't usually many new teams because of this…"

A thud echoed from somewhere further into the forest, startling both Saria and Jasmine. Rocard narrowed his eyes.

"Stay here, I'll investigate," he stated, walking in front of the swablu and putting an arm in her way.

"Not alone, you won't!" Saria objected, gesturing to his head. "You still need time to recover! _I'll_ go and see what it was—"

"Oh, quit bickering and come along!" Jasmine huffed. In the time they had argued, the pidgey already flew a fair distance away from them. "It's probably just a flyer anyways."

"Huh— Hey, wait up!"

While Saria chased after the other avian, Rocard followed at a slightly less brisk pace. He chided himself for what happened earlier, his back feeling cold.

 _I shouldn't have frozen up like that._ He let out a warm breath, scowling. _Shadow or not, that doesn't excuse me for not fighting him! Just like…_

The cyndaquil slowed down, furrowing his brow. _Just like… _Dammit_ , why can't I remember? Koal saved me then! How could I forget what happened other than that?_

"A-Are you injured, sir?!"

Rocard's train of thought derailed, and he glanced at the swablu. Standing beside her and Jasmine, a very familiar reptile stood against a tree stump.

"Never thought I'd see _you_ again," Rocard grumbled. "What made you look for me?"

Totodile huffed, glaring at the fire-type. "I'm here to make a team with you."

Cocking his head, Rocard stared blankly at the totodile. Then, he burst out laughing.

" _What_?" the water-type demanded. "It's not like I had a choice!"

"Do you know this totodile, Rocard?" Saria inquired, a hesitant smile on her beak. "Is he a friend of yours?"

"Not even _close_!" Rocard snickered a bit more before facing the swablu. "We just happened to meet when we first rescued Ryder—"

He slapped a hand to his mouth. _Shit. If she didn't know, she does _now_! Smooth moves, Rocard…_

Saria let out a small giggle. "It's okay! I had a feeling you saved little Ryder."

"I— But— _No_!" the cyndaquil exclaimed, a panicked expression on his face. "You'll publish that article with _my_ name on it! I can't afford to have that out there!"

"... _Why_? Isn't that a _good_ thing, to get some recognition?"

Rocard faltered at the three pairs of eyes staring at him. "But that's the _point_! Once that gets out there, people are gonna expect bigger and bigger things from me or attribute me to every success, and when I inevitably fail, they'll— _They'll_ —"

Backing away from them, he broke eye contact. "Y-You wouldn't understand…"

He fidgeted with his bandages, his breathing becoming more labored. Glancing back at the three, he tried to glare at them. "D-Don't look at me like that."

"...Just keep the damn thing _anonymous_ ," Jasmine deadpanned to the swablu. "You'd still get the message across without detailing Rocard. Just say a nice pokémon did it and move on."

"But why doesn't he want to—"

"Do you _see_ how he's reacting?" The pidgey pointed a wing in Rocard's direction, a scowl crossing her beak. "Even in the five minutes I've known him, he's _clearly_ had some sort of bad experience with this. I mean, just _look_ at him - he looks like he just got sucker punched by his best friend!"

Rocard gave Jasmine a stern look. "Don't rub it in…"

"I'm _proving a point_ ," she corrected. "Saria, I hope you've got it by now.”

Saria gulped. “Well, alright…”

“Great. Now that _that’s_ settled," the pidgey continued, spreading her wings and taking to the air, “I’m headed out.”

"W-Wait!"

Stopping in midair, Jasmine turned to face the swablu. "What?"

"Do you… have a place to stay?" Saria asked, hopping closer to the other avian. “From what I remember, you’ve been missing for a few weeks now.”

"...Look, do you think I have a nest of my own? Of _course_ I don’t have a place to stay."

With a flap of her wings, Saria joined Jasmine in the air. "I can let you stay, if only for just a while. Would you like to stay with me?"

Jasmine glanced over to Rocard and Totodile before eventually sighing. "...Sure, I guess I can for a while."

"Great!" Saria looked to the cyndaquil, shifting the strap on her bag. "I'll make sure you stay anonymous in my report, Rocard - I promise."

"Uh, thanks."

As the avians soared above the trees, Rocard noticed Totodile's bewildered glare. He crossed his arms. "What's with the look? I'm not _that_ appealing."

"Wh— _No_ , it's not about your looks!" the water-type stuttered. "Just what made you afraid of having your name in the news?"

Rocard heaved a sigh. "What are you, a cop? Since when did _you_ care, anyways?"

" _Gah_ , never _mind_." Totodile grabbed the fire-type by the arm and started pulling. "My ma's waiting for you—"

"Oh, so _you_ don't like being touched but would gladly take _me_ somewhere without my consent?" Rocard growled, detaching the totodile's claws. "And why would your mom want me?"

"Rrgh…"

Totodile snatched the cyndaquil's again, scowling. "Just— Just _come on_!"

"No!" Rocard pulled away again. "I need to tell Ryder I failed the mission he gave me, first! I'll consider 'chatting' with your mom when I'm done with that."

"Augh… Just hurry it up. And when you're done, meet me at the library!"

With a final huff, Totodile dashed ahead and left the fire-type behind.

 _...What a strange little guy,_ Rocard mused. _Whatever his mom wants, I'm not sure if I'd like to do what she asks. I've got bigger things to worry about. Like Ryder…_

He let out a tense breath. _What should I say to him? 'Sorry, I couldn't get that badge because the flaaffy that kidnapped you got it first'? _That's_ gonna disappoint him to no end. He hardly even trusted me when we first met, so what reason would he have to trust me after saying _that_?_

Standing around in the middle of the woods wasn't going to do him any favors, though…

Rocard sucked it up and searched for the path to town. As he did so, however, he realized he had missed something.

 _My items!_ The cyndaquil checked himself, seeing no bag around him. _Shit, shit, shit, where's the fucking bag—_

He blinked. _Saria has it. I _just_ saw her with it!_

Letting out a groan, he went into a full run towards the path. _Looks like I'm making _three_ stops now…_

* * *

"Missus Camilla."

Although Camilla hadn't expected Alakazam to show up, she wasn't left unprepared. She folded up a book and headed towards the front.

"Yes, Sir Alakazam?" she asked, spite leaking from her tone. "Did you need another textbook for someone…"

"Don't play coy," the psychic interjected with a wave of his hand. "This is about your son and his little 'team'."

"I see…" Camilla leaned against her table. "I'll be sure to send you the corrected form by sundown, as James said—"

Alakazam scowled, bending one of his spoons. "You will give me the form this _instant_."

Narrowing her eyes, the feraligatr inhaled through her nostrils. She turned her hips slightly, pleading, "After everything I've done for you?"

The psychic-type hesitated for a moment, but he shook his head furiously. "I don't have the time to fall for your attract technique again. You will give me that form, or it's automatic rejection."

"Really, now?" Camilla scoffed. "Now that I think of it, isn't there a clause stating that any change in form submission dates must be notified at least twenty-four hours before that date?"

"You can't be serious," Alakazam argued, seething. "We have no such clause—"

"Section three, article four, third paragraph of the Rescue Team Conduct."

Camilla internally smirked, watching the psychic's face shift from anger to contemplation, then to disbelief.

"Of course we have a clause like that…" He crossed his arms, turning away. "Don’t think for a second that will stop me now."

Before Camilla could determine the reason for his phrasing, she found herself getting flung into some shelves. The wind escaped from her lungs, but she got back up with ease.

"I’m the one in charge," Alakazam snarled. He flung a spoon, aiming it at Camilla's neck.

She snatched the spoon before it could pierce her throat. "Come on, now… You just have to resort to fighting, don't you?"

Alakazam muttered something to himself, pulling the spoon away with his telepathy. "You've been getting on my nerves ever since you asserted yourself and made this damn library. What makes you think you can get what you want under my rule?"

"What, you're acting like you haven't done anything remotely worse under everyone’s noses?"

The psychic's eye twitched. He aimed a psybeam at Camilla’s head, prompting her to lean to the side. "Hmph. You say that like I'll get caught. Now stay still while I teach you a lesson."

"Oh, you _will_ get caught," the feraligatr stated. "What would ol' Lucario think?"

"Ggh…"

Camilla grinned at the way he squirmed. "Now, you give me that extra day, or I _might_ just tell him what you've done."

"You _wouldn't_ …"

"Hm…" The feraligatr glanced at him with a glint in her eyes. "I don't know, you've done some _abhorrent_ things - some of which are a _huge_ offender of our mentor's teachings. For starters, you murdered—"

"Shut it!" The alakazam backed off, a hint of fear in his hard glare. "Fine. Have that extra day and see where that gets you!"

"Good."

Making sure Alakazam had completely left the library, Camilla let out a sigh of relief. Despite the claims she made, there was one definite lie among them:

She never trained herself under Lucario's teachings. However, she knew _someone_ who did. In every respect, she couldn't help but feel lucky that she got away with something like that, especially in front of Alakazam of all pokémon.

Camilla recalled the way the psychic-type had squirmed like that. _Now, how can I bring that 'almighty' psychic down? Lucario may be an important piece, but contacting him will be… unreliable at best._

She turned around, noticing the damaged shelf and sighing. "Damn, these books were brand new…"

* * *

The scent of leaves rushed into Deino's face, accompanied by a painful grunt from Tony. "Mister Tony, did something hit you?"

"Just a branch, kid," the rock-type stated. "It was in the way."

Deino glanced up - since he _knew_ that was where Tony's face was - and giggled. "Did you try ducking?"

Letting loose a short laugh of his own, Tony ruffled the dragon's hair. "That's what I did. Too low for me to duck under."

King, who had gone silent for a bit, let out a quiet moan. "This forest is empty. Certainly no fire-types around - aside from me."

"I guess it can't be helped," Tony mumbled, tapping the deino on the head. "Sorry, kid. There's no cyndaquil around here."

Deino stayed quiet for a moment before perking his head in a direction. "Have you checked _there_?"

King growled, but he suddenly hushed for some reason. "That particular tree has been checked _three times_ already. Tony, can we just give up on this mission—"

"Our duty is to see every mission through," Tony countered. "Why are you so insistent on stopping this mission?"

"Because these dragons are _bad news_! What if Alakazam finds out? You know he's got that rule of prohibiting dragon-types in the Square, so if he learns that _we're_ interacting with a dragon, he'll— He'll…"

"...He'll _what_?"

"...Just… don’t expect to be in the Square for long."

Deino felt Tony's grip slacken, prompting the dragon to hop off and take on the search himself. He sniffed around, tuning out the argument that ensued.

 _What I wouldn't give to be able to see stuff…_ Deino perked up, recalling something he had been told. _Oh, that's right! I have that aura thing the lady told me about!_

He took a moment to focus on his aura reading, noting King's yellow outline and Tony's dark blue one. Aside from those, he couldn't find any other details…

_...Huh? I think I saw some green. Now, where did I find it again?_

With a bit of extra searching, Deino found a strip of green. He went up to it, sniffing it and frowning. _Bleck. It's got that medicine smell. What is it? Oh yeah, there's some light blue there, too. It's almost purple, actually—_

"Deino! Get back here!"

The dragon-type whipped around, grinning. "But I found something! Can you come look at it?"

He heard Tony's heavy footsteps approaching him, and he sidestepped to show the object better.

"A roll of medical tape?" Tony observed. "How did you find this?"

"Oh, that was easy!" Deino stated, tail wagging. "I used my aura thing and saw that this had some green on it. There's also some light blue on it."

"Green, huh?"

Deino nodded. "It's like a bright green, but the color's kinda faded out… Wait a minute!"

"What?" Tony picked the dragon up, pulling the hair from his eyes.

"That bright green was what the nice lady told me to look for!" Deino exclaimed with a wide smile. "So that cyndaquil must've been here!"

King came up from behind the tyranitar, sending Deino a tired glare. "Well, if he was here, he isn't now."

"I'll wait here for him, then!" the little dragon-type determined. "He'll come by, I'm sure!"

"Wha— By _yourself_?" Tony's jaw went agape. "Aren't you starving? You look thin as a rail! How do you know he'll come back here, let alone before you starve to death?"

Deino shrugged. The thought hadn't even occurred to him. "I dunno. The lady said I'd meet him here, so he's gonna be here."

"I _told_ you they were nothing but trouble," King muttered.

"Aren't you concerned at all about getting food?"

Raising a paw to his chin in thought, Deino hummed a little tune to himself. "...Nope! This is a forest, isn't it? I'm sure there's food here if I need it!"

King sighed, tapping Tony to grab his attention. "He's not going to budge. I know that look."

"... _Fine_ ," the tyranitar relented, putting Deino down and sifting through something.

"What are you doing."

"I'm giving him an apple, King!" Tony snapped. "Just to guarantee he doesn't die when we leave. It's just a normal apple, even, so we don't have to spend as much to get it back."

"You— Damn— Gah!" King stomped his foot. "Give him the damn apple, then! I'm heading back to the Square!"

Tony exhaled, placing something in front of Deino. "Take care of yourself, alright?"

"Okay, _Dad_ ," the dragon replied, giggling. "I know what I'm doing."

He heard the rock-type stutter over his words before walking away.

Deino sat on his haunches, patiently waiting for the cyndaquil to come around. Every now and then, he would survey the area with his aura reading. His eyes drifted to the medical tape, which had more of the pale blue color than before.

 _Hm…_ A lightbulb went on in his mind. _Maybe I can use that to get the hair out of my eyes!_

The little dragon set to work, fumbling with the tape. However, his quadrupedal stance would make this process take a _bit_ longer than intended…

* * *

Rocard knocked on the door to the clinic before walking in. As soon as he did, he noticed some key differences straight away: several other pokémon waited in the cotton seats, among them being the snubbull he encountered previously.

Saria, however, was nowhere to be seen.

The cyndaquil glanced around, finding only the snubbull to be a familiar face here. With extra caution, he approached the canine and waved. "Do you know where Saria is?"

"She's working," Snubbull muttered. "Don't you know she's a nurse?"

"Of course I know," Rocard grumbled, tired of the fairy-type's glare. "I left something here, so I'm hoping she'd find them."

Rolling his eyes, Snubbull leaned further into the wall behind him. "Wait in line like the rest of us."

Rocard sighed, taking a seat on the bare floor a small distance away. He glanced back at the canine for a brief moment before settling his gaze on the floor in front of him.

 _What am I going to do?_ he pondered. _If this is a different world, I won't be able to rely on a shrine or purification chamber to cure a shadow. Should I seek out Celebi, since that's what the shrine symbolized? ...No, that'd take too long. A small, mythical pokémon like it would probably flee before I can get a word in…_

He clutched his head. _For Arc's sake, please tell me this doesn't get worse… Shadow pokémon were already a pain to deal with, and now I have even _less_ options to deal with them. I don't even _know_ if there are any methods left! Maybe— Maybe it's just the flaaffy. I haven't seen any other shadow pokémon around, and I want to believe it's just that one, but…_

The cyndaquil heard a door creak open. He turned to see Saria calling for one of the patients.

She noticed Rocard, and she sent an acknowledging glance at him. After leading the respective patient through the door, she quietly approached the fire-type.

"What is it, Rocard?" she whispered. "I thought you were seeing Ryder."

"I left my items in your bag," he responded, noting the blank look she gave him. "...Y'know, the oran, pecha, cheri, and blast seed?"

"Oh." The swablu opened up her bag, only producing two items: the oran, and the cheri. "Because you fainted in the dungeon, the forces of that place claimed the other two… I'm sorry I didn't get there sooner."

Rocard took the two items, unsatisfied with the explanation. "I… Okay, then… What about that pink note?"

"Also gone," she sighed. "It wasn't anything important, though. I need to get back to work."

The cyndaquil opened his mouth to object, but his attempts at speaking floundered. By the time he could speak, Saria had already closed the door.

He stood up, exchanging a glance with the snubbull before briskly exiting the clinic.

During his walk into the center of town, Rocard glanced around, noticing certain buildings he hadn't paid attention to the first time around. Larger buildings took the shape of a pokémon's head, much like Altaria's clinic; he could see one resembling a kangaskhan, another representing a kecleon, and even one looking like a gulpin.

The closest of these buildings, however, was shaped like a persian. In front of the structure was the pokémon after which it was modeled, laying down and licking its paws.

Rocard slowed down, approaching the persian. "Er, hi. Which business is this?"

"Felicity Bank, _Héricendre_ ," the feline responded, standing up and showing a sly grin. "You are new here, _non_?"

"Y-Yeah, I suppose." Rocard tightened his grip on his items. "Can I make an account real quick?"

Persian nodded, pulling out a scrap of paper. She took out a bottle of ink, dipping a claw in the glass and writing something down. "Your name, _s'il vous plaît_."

"It's Rocard," the cyndaquil informed.

" _Magnifique_ ," she whispered, glancing at him for a brief moment. " _Quel joli nom_ … Your team name?"

"Uh, I'm not on a team," he stated.

The normal-type sighed. " _D'accord_. Unfortunately, we cannot serve you if you have not made or joined a team… But…"

Rocard rolled his eyes, letting out a sigh of his own. "I'll be on my way, then."

Had he looked back for just a second longer, he would've seen the persian reach out for him before sighing and returning to her work.

* * *

Entering Quiver Resort, Rocard caught sight of Arnie rather quickly - in fact the nuzleaf was among the first faces he noticed. Rocard hesitated in approaching him, however.

 _The sooner I tell Ryder, the faster I get it done._ He fixed his gaze on the hallway leading to the guest rooms. _...He's gonna hate me after this, isn't he?_

Rocard beelined to the elevator, jumping up to press the button. As he waited, he noticed a familiar-looking lombre. The water-type gazed at the floor as he walked by, but he perked up and turned around.

"Wait just a minute!" Lombre stumbled over to the cyndaquil. "Missus Camilla was looking for you! What are you doing here?"

"I'm… trying to get to Ry— Caterpie?" Rocard attempted to explain, holding his items closer.

" _Caterpie_? Secretary Rey's kid?" the lombre repeated. "You're joking!"

"No, I'm not," Rocard denied. He shot the water-type a look. "It's personal business."

Lombre placed his claws at his hips. "Well, standing there won't do you any good. C'mon, you can tell the kid later—"

An electronic beep resounded from the elevator, followed by the door opening. Rocard went inside without missing a beat.

"I think speaking with Caterpie is more important right now," he stated, reaching great heights to press the close button - all while staring at the gawking lombre. "I'll speak with this 'Camilla' when I'm _done_."

He made sure Lombre didn't squeeze in before the door closed. Sitting down, he rubbed his eyes. His heart sped up its beat. _I _still_ don't have a good way to break the news…_

The elevator slowed, forcing him to stand back up. _Here goes… I'm so not ready for this._


	5. Flicker

"Y-You… didn't get… You didn't get it _back_?"

Rocard had trouble keeping his composure. Just as he had feared, Ryder was freaking out in front of him, eyes already shedding tears. _Shit shit _shit_ how do I calm him down I can't—_

"It— It was the flaaffy that kidnapped you!" he sputtered, holding his arms out to defend himself. "I think he was after your dad's badge!"

The caterpie took in a sharp breath, staring intently at the floor. "...A badge?"

"Y-Yeah!" Rocard said, relaxing his arms a bit. "It looked like that badge on the golden flag - you know the one, right? Think of that, but silvery!"

Looking at the cyndaquil, Ryder mumbled, "But it's an icky brown color… Did Papa have a team? Maybe that's why Momma doesn't like him anymore - 'cuz he went away with his team…"

"Uh, let's not jump to conclusions, okay?" Rocard requested. He sent the bug-type a nervous smile. "That flaaffy said it was a platinum badge. Maybe your dad's badge just got really dirty?"

"Maybe…"

Feeling as though Ryder had calmed down enough, Rocard returned to his usual stance. He wrung his arms. "Since I got knocked out, I lost some items. I didn't get to use that blast seed you gave me, and now it's gone…"

He took out an oran and offered it to the caterpie. "I'm sorry if this doesn't make up for my failure, but you should have this."

"N-No, it's okay," Ryder stuttered, pushing away the berry with his tail. "I didn't do nothing. I'm supposed to give _you_ something if you did good - that's what Momma said!"

Rocard slowly put the berry away. "Okay… I have a question for you, Ryder."

With a sniff, Ryder lifted his head to look at him. "Yes, Mister Rocard?"

The fire-type glanced away, thinking on the question a bit. "When you saw that flaaffy… did you see any sort of… dark outline around him? It's kind of like a dark purple."

"Um…" Ryder mulled over the question. "...No? He just looked like a flaaffy. even if he was _really_ mean."

Sighing, Rocard let out a simple, "Oh."

"What does a dark line mean?" the caterpie inquired, tilting his head.

"It's, well…" Rocard took a moment to steady himself. "A dark outline around any pokémon means… really bad news. I don't know what they're called here, but I call them shadow pokémon. Very few hu…"

He stopped himself short, almost letting the slip up get to him. "Very few _pokémon_ can actually see the outline, but I'm one of them. A shadow pokémon can get _really_ aggressive for no reason; their heart is closed off, so in order to make them stop, we have to open their hearts…"

Ryder remained silent for a few moments before making a small hum. "Does that mean Flaaffy is sad, too?"

The cyndaquil choked on his breath, clearing his throat to ease himself. "Er, I guess? I don't believe he's fully in control of himself. Unless you know how to open his heart, he'll just be… suffering. A lot. He can't show it, though, since his body won't let him."

"How do you open his heart, then?"

"Er…"

A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts. Rocard turned to the door.

"Ryder? Rocard?" Rey called. "I'm just making sure you two are okay."

"I'm fine, Momma!" the caterpie stated. "Rocard and I are talking about that meanie flaaffy!"

The knob turned, followed by the butterfree poking her head and a wing through the door. "I don't suppose I could join in?"

"But _Momma_ , it's a _secret_ —"

Rocard sent a reassuring smile to the both of them. "We can talk about the flaaffy."

"...I see."

Landing next to her son, Rey picked him up and put him atop her head. "Please, tell me what you know about Flaaffy."

"Well…" Rocard sat on his haunches. "I encountered him while I was doing a secret mission for Ryder. This flaaffy… He had a part in me failing that mission."

The butterfree glanced up at her son for a moment. "Is that so? What exactly _was_ this mission you tried to do for him?"

Gazing at Ryder's timid expression, Rocard shook his head. "That's something Ryder would need to tell you… if he's ready, that is."

"...Alright."

Rocard exhaled through his nostrils. Rey seemed willing enough to wait on that, but…

"Back to the flaaffy, I…" He furrowed his brow, his voice wavering. "Well, one thing I should tell you is that I can see certain auras. This usually only applies to pokémon that have… Uh…"

He forced himself to relax, exhaling. "Point is, I call these kinds of pokémon 'shadow pokémon', due to their aura being a dark shade of purple. They tend to be highly aggressive, and…"

As he quieted down, Rey glanced down at the floor. "Why do you bring this up, though? I appreciate the… _information_ and all…"

"Uh…" Rocard rubbed his arms. "I saw this shadow aura around that flaaffy. That, from what I can guess, is the most likely reason he kidnapped your son."

Rey sat there, frozen. She rubbed an eye, clearing her throat. "Alright. I suppose that… _could_ explain what's causing just about every electric-type to act that way…"

The cyndaquil's hands went cold. "...Did— Did you just say… _every_ electric-type?"

"...Yes?" The butterfree brought Ryder to her arms. Her wings drooped. "From what I hear, electric-types are lashing out at everything they see. Ice-types have left to secluded places and have become generally apathetic. Also, fire-types are staying inside due to some overwhelming fear, from what I've heard."

Mouth hanging open, Rocard struggled to comprehend what he just heard. _It's— It's not just the flaaffy… Every electric-type is a shadow pokémon. Every. Last. One. I don't think those ice- and fire-types are shadow pokémon— Please, please, _please_ , that better not be the case or I swear to Mew—_

"However, you don't seem to be affected by the same thing plaguing those fire-types," Rey continued, attempting to put a hopeful spin on it. "Maybe it's… Maybe it's the way you can see those dark auras, perhaps?"

Rocard fumbled with his mouth, uncertainty piling up. "Doubt it. I just… think of this 'seeing shadow pokémon' ability as nothing more than a…"

 _...Nothing more than a curse,_ he finished internally. _If I wasn't born with that, I wouldn’t…_

Looking away, he sighed. He rubbed his arm and said, "Anyways, I need to head back down. Gotta talk with this 'Camilla' lady."

"Oh." Rey bowed, closing her eyes. "I hope you do better. You can visit anytime you like, okay?"

"Er…" The cyndaquil glanced at the bandages on his arms - _already unraveling? Heh, sums up my life in a way._ "Yeah. Thank you."

He slowly closed the door, then heaved out a sigh. He leaned against the door and sank onto the floor. _Gods… I do something well, only to mess it up later… It's like nothing's changed…_

Rocard let out a bitter laugh. _This new body is just a fresh coat of paint. Looks different, but it’s basically the exact same. What good am I…_

A hint of reluctance still persisted when he pushed himself back up and resumed his walking.

* * *

Swinging his legs against the rickety chair, Lockjaw waited for his mother to return from the sea of books. Although this was the only library in town, not a lot of pokémon came in aside from the regulars - something that he could enjoy, at least.

 _That cyndaquil's… strange,_ he noted. _Why didn't he want his name in the news? The way he goes from quiet to recklessly brave is… just plain _weird_. Can’t think of any other words to call him. Is that what Ma meant when she said those fire-types had gone crazy?_

He saw Camilla returning to him, handing him a book and smiling.

"Er, what's this book for?" Lockjaw asked, inspecting the cover. "...'Getting Along with Teammates'— _Ma_ , I don't need this!"

"If you're making a team with that cyndaquil, you'll need all the help you can get," she stated, her smile never dropping. "Now, when did you say he'll arrive?"

Lockjaw groaned and rolled his eyes. "I don't know! He said he had to talk to that caterpie again."

"Secretary Rey's son," the feraligatr corrected, a glint in her eyes. "If you and Rocard helped save her kid, that's a good amount of leverage for you to start a team! The stars must have been aligned for you to not only pass your test, but assist an influential pokémon, don't you think?"

"But why?" Lockjaw scratched his head. "She's just a secretary. Fat lotta' good that'd do…"

Camilla just smiled. "You'll see."

A bell jingled, prompting her to get back up and walk around to the checkout counter. "Welcome, welcome! Is there anything I can—"

Her breath hitched, which got the totodile to glance up…

Rocard staggered in, staring into nothing. Seeing the fire-type so… _cold_ made Lockjaw shudder.

 _What's up with him now?_ he pondered. _I thought he'd be puffing his chest out or lighting up his back… Have I ever seen him use a fire-type attack?_

"Er, I don't suppose you're this Rocard I've been looking for, correct?" Camilla inquired with a sideways glance.

"Yeah, that's me."

The cyndaquil spotted Lockjaw and cleared his throat. He straightened his posture, adding, "So what did you call me here for, Missus Camilla?"

Lockjaw narrowed his eyes. _Does he not think I saw him walking so dejectedly just a moment ago?_

"My son here wants to make a team, you see," Camilla explained. "We… don't have a lot of options for teammates, unfortunately. Would you mind joining him?"

Rocard sighed, shaking his head and stifling a chuckle. "Ma'am, just tell me _you_ want him to make a team. I'll think about it, okay?"

Heading to one of the bookshelves, he pulled out a book and opened it up, staring into it.

Camilla exhaled, her shoulders sagging. Turning to Lockjaw, she said, "Let's give him some space, then."

Despite agreeing with the fire-type, Lockjaw still wanted to keep away from him as much as he could. He followed his mother to the restricted area, plopping down onto the nearest chair.

"Ma?" he called. "Why do I have to team up with that cyndaquil again?"

She stared at him, maintaining a small smile. "You _know_ you don't have many reliable pokémon outside our family. Rocard here might be your only chance at making a team."

"Why the rush, then?"

That question made her drop her smile. Camilla glanced away. "I'm afraid a bit of a… complication rose up. I need to deliver the form before sunset tomorrow."

Lockjaw shivered. "...Why didn't you _tell_ me?"

"I was only…" She put a claw to her mouth, hesitating - but _why_? "I was only… _informed_ about this change. Just this morning, in fact."

He focused his gaze on the carpet, uncertainty brewing. "And if you don't get my team formed by tonight…?"

"...We can talk about that another time."

The totodile sighed. _Figures. Why does she always say that when it's something super bad? I never get _anything_ out of Ma or Dad these days…_

Hopping off of the chair, Lockjaw headed to the door - though not without mumbling, "I'm gonna see Rocard now."

"Alright, then," his mother said.

* * *

Rocard tightened his grip on the book. _I can't read this. It's just like the signs at that police station - just a jumble of footprints and claw marks! And _this_ is the local language here?_

Sinking onto his back, he let out a quiet groan. _I'm just fucked, aren't I? I can't read, I don't have a home, and there are shadow pokémon on the loose - with almost no method to cure them, at that! It just _can't_ get any…_

He gritted his teeth, knocking his head against the wall. _Stop. You're a dumbass, Rocard - of _course_ it can get worse. It always can. You're living proof of that, you fucking _idiot_._

The sound of a door clicking open brought him back up on his feet. He closed the book, turning to face Totodile.

"You wanna talk or something?" the cyndaquil muttered, crossing his arms.

Narrowing his eyes, Totodile walked up to him. "What was with you when you came in just a minute ago?"

Rocard glared at the water-type. "Not any of your business."

"I'm not backing down this time," Totodile snarled, leaning towards the cyndaquil. "You gave me that exact glare last time! If we're gonna be on a team, we better get to know each other better. So _spill it_."

"Or what?" Rocard spat. "What about _you_ , huh? You know my name, but I know next to fuckin' _nothing_ about you!"

"You—"

They stared at each other long and hard. Finally, Totodile sighed, clenching his fists.

"Rrgh… I _guess_ you're right about that." He backed off, resting his jaw on a fist. "It's Lockjaw. Don't forget it."

_Lockjaw, huh…_

Admittedly, the name sounded pretty cool for a totodile. _It's a shame he's got a stick crammed up his ass. I might actually want to consider working with him if he weren't so uptight._

"Okay, _look_ ," the water-type grumbled, "my ma's gonna get in serious trouble if we don't make a team. I don't wanna have to team up with _you_ , but I just…"

He let out a desperate sigh, looking away. "I just… _have_ to, okay? For Ma's sake. So _please_ , will you join me in making a team?"

Rocard gazed at the totodile, judging his expression. _...He doesn't seem to be lying. Why would that feraligatr get in 'serious trouble' for not forcing us into a team? Seems _really_ suspicious… but it's not like I can compare his mother to…_

The cyndaquil rubbed an arm, exhaling. "...Yeah, sure. Just don't ask anything too personal about me."

"Fine, I guess…"

Before they headed towards the room Lockjaw came from, Rocard stuck out a paw. The water-type raised a brow at this.

"...What are you doing?"

Tilting his head, Rocard snorted. "Don't you shake hands… or paws, claws, and the like around here? We're making a deal, aren't we?"

Lockjaw still stared at the extended paw, befuddled by the explanation. "No…? I've never heard of anyone doing that here, but if you insist…"

He latched onto Rocard's arm, giving it a firm shake. "There. Happy?"

"Yeah, sure, that works." The cyndaquil turned to the door. "Now that _that's_ out of the way, let's just talk to your mom."

Rolling his eyes, Lockjaw knocked on the door and waited. Rocard leaned against the counter, staring at his hands - paws. Hands?

 _I can't just start calling these 'paws' now,_ he thought. _I may have had a shitty life, but at least I didn't have to worry about transforming into something else! Why did I become a pokémon? What could _possibly_ be here that requires _my_ involvement? I’d just make everything worse._

At the sound of a click, he brought his focus back to the door. Camilla greeted the two with a smile.

"Have you made up your mind, Rocard?" She saddled to the side, letting them through.

"Er, yeah, I have," Rocard said. Taking a seat on the floor, he looked to Lockjaw. "...So what do I need to fill out?"

Camilla's eyes lit up. "Ah— Right, I have the forms right here!"

The feraligatr reached for a stack of papers, shuffling them until she found a particular form. Putting on a pair of glasses - which looked tiny in comparison to her snout - she exclaimed, "Here we are! Now, do you mind filling out these forms yourself or—"

"No!"

Rocard's breath hitched. His gaze shifted between Camilla and Lockjaw before he let out a sigh. "I mean— You can just ask me questions, and I'll answer them. How about that?"

Furrowing her brow, the mother water-type slowly nodded. "...Alright. I suppose I'll start from the top. Spell out your name for me, please."

"R-O-C-A-R-D."

She went straight to writing. "...A-R-D. Alright, do you have any experience in rescuing, retrieving, or outlaw hunting?"

His head perking up, Rocard nodded. "Yes, I do."

Camilla hummed, a seemingly knowing smile creeping up her face. Leaning into her seat a little, she added, "Would you mind describing this experience?"

As the list of questions went on, Rocard found himself reminiscing over the amount of paperwork he had to sign to keep his pet torkoal. However, he felt as though he were missing more than a fair share of details; perhaps it had something to do with how long ago he had first met Koal… as well as the circumstances around her.

But thinking about his torkoal led to him overthinking everything he could've done… Everything that he didn't do - or wouldn't, for that matter. He had always wondered why Koal stuck with him throughout his time in…

 _I didn't deserve you, Koal,_ he lamented. _You were there to comfort me after every… every… during _those_ times. I don't think I would've lasted as long without you by my side… If I could just do _something_ to thank you for dealing with me back then…_

"Rocard, are you alright?"

The former human jerked his head back up. Right, he was still supposed to be answering questions… "Yeah. Yeah, I'm good. Could you repeat that last question for me?"

"Do you mind signing here and here?" Camilla requested, pointing to the bottom of two sheets.

"Oh, right."

Just before he took the stick of charcoal, Rocard felt a dampness around his eyes. _Dammit… You're such a crybaby, Rocard._

His lack of separated fingers didn't help with gripping the charcoal, but he managed. Once he repeated this process on the other sheet, he handed them back to Camilla. He looked at his hands with annoyance.

 _That's gonna be a pain in the ass to wash off,_ the cyndaquil noted.

Inspecting the handwriting, Camilla raised a brow. "Strange… I've never seen a language like this. Where did you learn it, Rocard?"

Rocard grimaced. _Shit. What should I say?_

Glancing at Lockjaw, the fire-type clutched an arm. "...A little place called Phenac Town. It's… pretty far from here."

"Ah." The feraligatr reordered the stack into a neat pile next to her. "Sounds exotic. I should find some documents about it…"

 _Yeah, good luck with that,_ Rocard internally remarked.

Turning to Lockjaw, he noticed the suspicious glare pointed at him. "...What?"

"I, uh…" Lockjaw faltered, possibly remembering the conversation from earlier. Through gritted teeth, he continued. "...I guess that sounds like a _nice place to visit_."

Camilla cleared her throat, bringing the other two's attention back to her. "There's just one more thing these forms need: a team name."

Rocard furrowed his brow. _We need something like that?_

"Ugh, why can't _you_ think of one, Ma?" Lockjaw groaned, slumping against the wall. " _You're_ the one putting all this together…"

"I believe you two should think about it," she responded. "If you want, I can offer some suggestions."

"Yes, _please_." Lockjaw rolled his eyes.

Sighing, Camilla shook her head. "Hm… Perhaps 'Team Grump' would suit you best. Or maybe 'Team Teenagers'?"

" _Ma_!"

Rocard snickered at the unexpected sass. _To her own kid. Savage._

"That's all I'm suggesting," Camilla stated. "If you want to pick a better name, talk about it with Rocard or think of one yourself."

Shooting his mother with a glare, Lockjaw crossed his arms and pouted.

 _He's gonna be no help…_ Rocard scoffed. _Maybe I should try and make a team with Ryder instead…_

An idea popped into his head. _...I have to make up for letting down Ryder. I need to find some way of making sure something like that doesn't happen again. Perhaps…_

Looking up at Camilla, Rocard fidgeted in his seat. "How about Team Redemption?"

The larger water-type cupped her chin, thinking about the name for a bit. "I think that's a wonderful name. Lockjaw, what do you think?"

"Augh— Yeah, sure, Team Redemption, _whatever_!" Lockjaw threw his claws into the air. "Can we just get this over with now?"

" _Lockjaw_ …" Camilla pointed the charcoal stick at her son. "Play nice."

"Fine…"

Satisfied, Camilla wrote the name on the form, folding up the completed stack and putting it into a letter. She turned to Rocard and bowed.

"Thank you for committing to this, Rocard," she said, smiling. "When I hear back from the recruitment office, where should I expect to find you?"

Rocard clenched a fist, sighing. "I, er… I don't have a home here."

"Oh."

He didn't like the pitying expression she gave him - hell, he _hated_ that type of look. His gaze hardened. _Stop it. Don't look at me like that. I don't _want_ your pity. I don’t deserve _any_ of that shit._

"If you really need to find me, I'll be hanging around Tiny Woods," the cyndaquil muttered, standing up and heading out of the room.

Although he had only mentioned Tiny Woods because it was the most familiar to him, Rocard briefly wondered if he'd have to go into the dungeon once more.

* * *

Deino rolled around in the dirt, trying to find other ways to spend his time. Though he didn't want to admit it, he felt absolutely _bored_. The cyndaquil he had expected to show up had to be taking his sweet time…

On the bright side, he managed to wrap a band of gauze around his forehead, lifting the hair out of his eyes. No more did he have to rely on his other senses! Or his aura vision, for that matter - that seemed to drain him more than he thought.

It was a temporary solution, of course; the adhesive parts of this roll of gauze seemed to barely function. He could care less about that, however. After all, he could see!

 _Maybe I should go find Tony again,_ he mused, lying on his back. _I bet he's looking for that cyndaquil! He might have some clues…_

He heard the sound of rustling bushes behind him, prompting him to turn around. However, he couldn't determine who - or what - made the noise…

The dragon decided to follow the source of the sound. _It's gotta be the cyndaquil she told me about!_

Sneaking around a few trees, he eventually came across a pokémon - actually, _several_ of them.

A group of houndour scavenged the area, picking off any berries they could find. Deino couldn't find a single cyndaquil among them, but he _did_ spot a patch of blue amongst the black.

Unfortunately, some of the pack spotted him, too.

"Intruder!" one houndour howled, alerting the rest of them. "Axel, Lance, Archer, help me subdue this dragon!"

" _Dragon_?!" another snarled, glaring towards Deino. "We need our _best_ fighters - someone _better_ at fighting than you lot!"

"You're no better at fighting than Lance," hissed a third houndour. "I'll take care of this."

Before the little dragon could explain himself, the houndour approached him. Now that he had a closer look, he noticed the many scars around this canine’s body. _Um, maybe I should try and talk to him now?_

"Now then, _dragon_ ," the fire-type began, "if you want to make this easier, surrender yourself _immediately_."

"Wha— But I—"

Stamping a paw on the ground, Houndour growled at him. "Speak another word, and we will strike you down. I assume you'd like your head attached to your neck, correct?"

Deino gulped, sinking onto the dirt. He took the chance to close his eyes and inspect the pack's auras.

Immediately, his vision was swamped with purple. A chill ran down his spine. _Oh. _That's_ what the lady meant when she said to watch out for purple auras…_

"What is the meaning of this, Dagger?"

The dragon-type opened his eyes. He noticed another houndour pushing herself through the crowd - but this one had blue fur and a yellowish muzzle. She also had a much larger figure compared to the remaining pack, and the shackles at her feet had an intricate, ice-blue pattern.

"M-Mistress!" Dagger stuttered, placing himself between the shiny houndour and Deino. "What do you mean? We're protecting you from the draconids, of course!"

Narrowing her eyes, Mistress glowered at the other houndour. "I see you harassing a _lone_ , _young_ dragon. Do not assume every dragon is among that clan, terrible as the draconids may be - look, he even lacks their markings. How can he be associated with them?"

"But— But Mistress—"

"We must focus our efforts on locating our new master," Mistress added. "This _unaffiliated_ dragon has nothing to do with our plan. You have no need to pester it like this."

"I— But—" Dagger exhaled, bowing. "...Yes, Mistress. I apologize for this mishap."

"Very well." The shiny houndour pointed her snout to the side. "Everyone, proceed in that direction. As for you, Dagger…"

She waited for the other houndour to follow the direction at which she pointed before glancing back at Dagger. "I must ask you to formally apologize to this deino."

Dagger's ears folded back. "Mistress Mace, you can _not_ be suggesting…"

Receiving another stern glare, he sighed. "A-As you wish…"

He turned to Deino, dejectedly muttering, "I am sorry for the misunderstanding. Please be on your way."

"Um…" Deino stood up, nodding his head. "Alrighty… You must be pretty good at battling."

"Indeed he is," Mace affirmed, pulling Dagger by the scruff. "We, too, will be on _our_ way. Be careful out there. Next time you may not be so lucky."

As the pack disappeared further into the woods, Deino let out a shaky breath. "Phew… That was scary…"

Closing his eyes again, he could see a glimmer of gray amidst the sea of violet. He flopped onto the ground. _I'm gonna have to find that cyndaquil if I wanna get rid of the purple stuff. Where could he be?_

* * *

Rocard headed towards the west side of town, where he had originally entered. Each home seemed to occupy at least _someone_ , but it wouldn't hurt to at least ask for a temporary spot… right?

"Sorry, I already have a lot to handle these days," a bellsprout apologized, leaning against the door. "Having a blazer would just be more trouble than it's worth."

The fire-type exhaled. _Great job, Rocard. How are you gonna find a place to stay at this rate?_

"Do you know who might help me find a roof under my head, then?" Rocard asked, grasping for any sign of help.

"Er…" Bellsprout scratched his head with the tip of his leaf. "I suppose you could ask Team ACT. They tend to move offices frequently, but if anybody knows, it'd be them. I think I last saw them… Uh, past the Kecleon Mart, close to Tiny Woods?"

 _There's that name again…_ Rocard noted, furrowing his brow. _I don't think I trust Alakazam, but perhaps the other two will be more trustworthy._

He nodded to the grass-type, waving his farewell. "Thank you for the information."

"Right… Be careful, I guess."

The fur on Rocard's back bristled just a bit once he heard the door close. _I guess he has a reason to be curt, even if that reason is unfounded in my case. Still kinda _rude_ , though…_

Continuing his trek outside of town, he slowed down to take a closer look at this "Kecleon Mart". Like a tiny portion of the buildings he had seen, this market was shaped in the head of its owner.

A kecleon leaned the stand with a wide smile, telling a story to someone behind the tent. Rocard rolled his eyes. _I never thought of kecleon as merchants. Then again, I've never seen them as much of a fighter, either. Probably just another quirk of this place…_

Before he fully turned away, however, he noticed another kecleon emerge from the tent… Except, unlike the typical faded green of its brethren, this one had a distinct shade of purple.

 _Is that a shiny?_ the cyndaquil pondered. He thought about it for a moment, then shook his head. _Wait, no, that can't be right. Isn't the red stripe blue on shiny kecleon? This one has a red stripe, still… That's so _interesting_! Maybe there’s some sort of variant I haven’t seen before…_

He mentally slapped himself. _I should be more focused on finding Team ACT's office. I can speculate on how a purple kecleon's possible later._

Rocard resumed his search, heading past the rickety bridge and stopping short of a brick dome. _Ah, this should be it._

As he approached the - admittedly shabby - house, he noticed the golden flag proudly flapping in the wind. It seemed humbling; what was essentially the government spent their time working in such an unsightly home…

Then again, he found himself reminded of the bellsprout's statement from earlier, as well as his first encounter with Alakazam. _This is just a temporary base. Why would they even need one of those, regardless of how long they would stay here?_

So many questions floated around in his mind. Perhaps it was time to answer some of them.

He went up and knocked on the door, expecting a response… Strangely, nobody answered. _Maybe it's just taking a bit?_

After waiting for a good few more minutes, he sighed and crossed his arms. "Hello? Anybody in here?"

Glass shattered from inside the house, making the cyndaquil shift his stance. Somebody _was_ here… but why weren’t they answering? Rocard decided not to press the issue any further, making his way down the path to Tiny Woods.

 _Well, _that_ was a waste._ The former human combed the fur atop his head, wincing at a jolt of static. _I was probably gonna get a simple ‘no’ anyways… Guess I'll just need to make something in the woods._

Something made him glance up at the path ahead. _...Could've sworn there was a flicker just now…_

He shook himself of the thought, veering off into the thicket. Searching for any sticks and branches, the cyndaquil gathered up what he could find and placed them in a spot where two trees were particularly close to one another.

 _That should get me started,_ he mused.

Rocard winced, feeling a small, yet sharp pain in his head. "What the _hell_ … I can get some sleep when I'm _done_ , okay, brain? Quit being such a… wimp…"

A rustling sound startled him into silence. He whipped around, seeing nothing but the trees and bushes.

_...I don't like what's going on here…_

Slowly turning back to the materials, he began lining up a few sticks between the trees before checking behind himself again. He sighed, spotting nothing out of the ordinary still.

 _Wait, I don't have any tape,_ Rocard observed, slapping himself. _Of _course_ … How am I gonna build a roof out of branches if I can't get any of these to stick together?_

Due to his focus on figuring out how to make his shelter, he neglected to survey the surroundings like he did before. Had he been paying just a _little bit_ more attention, he would've noticed someone sneaking up behind him and tackling him to the ground.

"Gah— What the—"

Rocard flipped himself onto his back, coming face to face with a grinning deino. Its hair was pulled back by crudely tied gauze, showcasing its green iris and black sclera.

"Ha- _ha_! I finally found you!" the deino exclaimed, trotting in place. "I _knew_ you'd be here eventually!"

"I'm sorry— Who the fuck are _you_?" Rocard narrowed his eyes, backing away from the dragon. "What do you _mean_ you 'finally' found me?"

Deino waved a claw dismissively. "Oh yeah yeah yeah, the lady in the dress told me to look for you! I'm, uh…"

The bubbly air around him dissipated - but just for a moment. "...Uh, I don't have a name. But _you_ , you're… Oh, what was it— Oh yeah! You're Rocard, arentcha'?"

Rocard stared at the dark-type incredulously. "...How do you know my name but not _yours_?"

"I dunno!" Deino responded, prancing around the cyndaquil. " _Buuut_ the lady in the dress told me it was super duper important I find you!"

"Okay, _first of all_ , gimme some space," Rocard ordered. "Second, who the hell is this 'lady in the dress'?"

For a moment, Deino froze in place. Rocard could almost see the gears in the little dragon's head churning.

"I forget!"

Rocard choked on his breath. "I— Gah… _Okay then_. Did she say _why_ it was important you find me?"

Deino thought on it a bit more. "...Nnnope!"

The cyndaquil let out a groan. "Then just— I dunno, _leave me alone_?"

"Nuh-uh, can't do that," Deino denied. "I trust that lady with everything! If she wants me to be with you, I'm gonna be with you!"

"Fucking _fantastic_ ," Rocard muttered, throwing his hands into the air. "Okay! _Fine_! Just keep your distance and don't say a single! Word!"

"But—"

"Not! One! _Word_!"

Backing up into the other tree, Deino kept a silly grin the whole time.

Rocard huffed, returning his eyes to the branches. _Yup, the gods hate me. Just smite me here and now, Arceus… Thundurus? Zekrom? No? ...Worth a shot._

His head drooped, which was followed by him snapping his gaze back forward with a jolt. _Gah… C'mon, just a few more minutes, and I'll be done…_

Yawning, the cyndaquil slumped against the tree. _...Maybe a quick nap would be nice…_


	6. Vision

_"Nnh… Still bright out, huh…"_

_Rocard opened his eyes just a tad. While the rest of his body refused to cooperate for now, he could look around freely._

_Unfortunately, looking around a barren, bright green void wasn't all that useful. If anything, it only made the situation worse. The familiar waves of yellow and green were nauseating to him…_

__Another one of these?_ he noted. _It's been a while since I've had this sort of thing…__

_The former human felt a shiver run down his back. Every time he had a dream in this void, some statement related to him would become heard… whether he liked it or not. On the bright side, he could move a bit more freely with each passing minute._

_"What sort of premonition is it this time?" Rocard asked aloud, preparing for the worst. "Am I gonna die in seven days? ...Nah, that'd be a mercy kill, wouldn’t it… Am I gonna lose an arm or something? I'm already getting to grips with this new body, why not make it _harder_? Hell, just turn me into an entirely different pokémon! I'm sure _that'll_ get your kicks!"_

_He waited for an answer. However, that response never seemed to arrive. The cyndaquil shuddered despite himself._

__It never takes_ this _long…_ he mused, furrowing his brow._

_Using what energy he could, he lifted his head to the sky. "Hey! You gonna tell me something that's gonna ruin me for the fourteenth time or _what_? ...Or was it the fifteenth?"_

_After some deliberation, he realized he had forgotten the exact number. "...Whatever, you've _obviously_ done this shit before, just get it over with!"_

_Rocard paused for a second, giving the voice a chance to respond. After hearing nothing, he lifted his head again. "Uhh, hello? Do I need to call you a vomit-inducing plaguebearer like last time? Or maybe I should refer to you as Lord Douchebag again? I can probably think of something better while I'm awake… Sound good? … _Hello_?"_

_His shoulders slacked. _Wow. If even ol' Bearer of Bad News is silent, it's_ gotta _be something terrible.__

_Though he appreciated the silence for once, that thought still lingered in his mind. He gritted his teeth, glaring up - down? This void provided little sense of direction…_

_" _Well_?" Rocard hissed, his voice gradually rising in volume. "Every dream I had, you kept telling me things that would come true days or weeks down the line. But now you've gone silent. _Why_? What are you _hiding_ from me? At least I knew what was going to happen! Why _now_ , when I'm in an unfamiliar world _and_ body?! I don't know what I'm doing here, and you say _nothing_!"_

_Fists trembling, he took in a sharp, unsteady breath. "Just— Just _answer_ me!"_

_As if substituting for a lack of words, the surroundings faded to black while the dream ended._

_Rocard gasped, his heart pumping faster. "H- _Hey_! I know you're there! Fucking _answer_ me!"_

* * *

Letting out a small groan, Rocard opened his eyes. Deino stood atop him with that dumb, naïve grin of his.

He wasn't in the mood for this.

"Get the fuck off of me," the fire-type demanded, attempting to push the dragon away from him. "I thought I said _keep your distance_!"

"Did you have any dreams? You were mumbling to yourself and…"

The question had this odd quirk to it. Whatever it was, Rocard couldn't tell. He arched a brow, then shook his head.

"And that matters _how_?" He slid out from underneath the deino, wiping his hands on his thighs. "I'm also pretty sure I told you not to speak to me."

"Was it filled with a bunch of green and yellow?"

Rocard froze. _What? How would he… No, what are you saying, Rocard? It's just a lucky guess, is all._

He noticed that some branches had been repositioned to lean against the trees. "...Why did you move these sticks?"

"I thought you'd like them here!" Deino stated, thankfully neglecting to address the change in subject. "You want to get into that tree hole, dontcha'?"

Eye twitching, the cyndaquil glanced up at the aforementioned hole, gritting his teeth. "No, I wanted—"

With a sigh, he shut his trap. _I… suppose that would save the trouble of making a roof… But how am I supposed to get up there, let alone _fit_ in it?_

"Oh, okay, then." Deino began knocking down the sticks, some long enough to reach the hole.

Rocard did a double-take. "Wait wait wait, I—"

"Yeah?"

The former human rubbed his face, watching the last branch tumble to the ground. "Ugh… Okay, I suppose I was a little out of it from being _rudely awoken_ by you, and I forgot that, _yes_ , I want to get up there."

Deino flashed another grin. "Oh, okay! Hey, if you get on top of me, you could get up there easier!"

For once, Rocard felt glad that this dragon was so gullible. "Yeah, sure, gimme a boost…"

Climbing atop the dragon-type, Rocard leapt onto the lower lip of the tree hole. He struggled to maintain his grip on the wood, but eventually, he snuck into the opening.

 _Ah…_ He curled into himself, admiring the surprisingly spacious cavity. _This seems like a good place to nap…_

However, he couldn't quite bring himself to relax. He squirmed within the tree hole before sitting up and leaning against the hard wall.

 _I'm gonna wake up with a whole shit ton of cramps if I sleep all curled up on a hard surface._ The former human shuddered, rubbing his arms. _And I also _just_ had another one of _those_ dreams. That voice may have been merciful last time, but I can't guarantee that he'll be silent next time. Especially after I… after I spoke like that to him…_

Rocard choked out a tiny, strangled laugh, curling up tighter. _I need to stop sleeping so much. I don't want to know if I'm gonna lose a leg in the upcoming weeks, I just want _one_ day where I can sleep without dreams, _just this once_ , please—_

"H-Hey, Rocard?"

The cyndaquil yelped, pressing against the wall as much as he could. Deino poked his head through the hole, a somber expression on his face.

"What— Hey, get out of here!" Rocard growled. "Don't you know what privacy means?"

"You're getting really worried… But why are you—" Deino gasped, pulling himself out of the tree. "That influence…"

" _What_?"

Poking out of the tree, Rocard stared at the dragon-type. "What… _influence_ are you talking about?"

"Uhh…"

Rocard sighed, facepalming. "Let me guess: you don't know."

Deino tilted his head, furrowing his brow. "Mmmaybe? I think that lady said something about some influence…"

 _I've got no idea who this 'lady' is,_ the fire-type mused, _but she's gotta be important. How did he know I was panicking, though? It's not like he can read auras or something… Then again, maybe more pokémon learn it than riolu and lucario?_

Glancing up at the cyndaquil, the frown on Deino's face lifted just a tad. "Oh, you're relaxed now. That's good! No gray aura, either!"

All Rocard could manage was an exasperated glare, his mouth hanging open. _What… What does a gray aura mean? I know that a mix between a black and purple aura means a shadow pokémon, but I only assumed everything else was okay._

He sighed. _It's been… How many years has it been since I could just see everyone's auras? Could've sworn I had that exact date down - considering, y’know, I lost something fucking _important_ …_

"Whatcha thinkin' about?"

Rocard narrowed his eyes, backing away from the dragon when he got too close. "None of your business. Leave me alone."

Before he could allow a chance for a response, the cyndaquil shoved Deino away from the tree hole.

"Aw!" Deino - infuriatingly enough - didn't seem too affected by the gesture. He toppled onto his back, but he lifted his head off the ground like nothing happened. "Hey, can we play?"

"...What did I _just_ say?" Rocard retreated back into the tree hole. "Leave me alone. If you want to play, go find someone _else_ to play with. I'm not your babysitter."

"Okay!"

With the deino quieting down, Rocard sank back into the wall and let out a sigh. _Good riddance…_

He stared at his hands before grunting. The wrappings had completely worn off, showing the scabs - tiny as they were - along his arms.

Some of the wounds had been reopened. Typical.

 _Can't go a day without making myself bleed._ Knocking his head against the wood, he huffed. _Gods, you're an idiot. No wonder you got tangled up with…_

Rocard shuddered, his stomach contorting. _...With… _them_. I'd rather be born here than in Orre, even if… even if Pyrite was the closest thing to 'home' I ever had._

Forcing his body to relax, Rocard inhaled a few deep breaths. "Okay… Remember those exercises… Think happy thoughts…"

His fatigue eventually caught up with him. Letting out a yawn, he curled onto the floor. _I need to get more sleep… _Fuck_ , I feel terrible…_

As the fire-type listened to the rustling trees, there was just something that he was missing…

_What happened to that deino?_

Unable to resist knowing, he poked his head out of the tree hole. Deino had simply vanished.

 _Oh._ Rocard's eyes widened at the observation. _He actually took my words to heart. Huh._

He stood there for a moment before retreating back into the cavity. _Eh, he'll be fine. He can annoy someone else for all I care._

* * *

Deino gazed down the dirt path, trotting along. Every so often, he would glance behind him. _Maybe I can find Tony and that charizard this way. Or maybe _that_ way… Hm…_

For a moment, he considered turning around, but he noticed the trail widening and taking on a more gravelly texture. To his left, he saw a brick dome just off the path. He spotted a bridge only a small distance away from the dome house, and just after that was a large town.

_Wow…_

The dragon slowed down to take in the sight. Glancing up, he saw a handful of taillow soaring high in the sky. _I bet Tony lives somewhere around here! Surely, he'll want to play!_

He closed his eyes, getting immediately swamped by a rainbow of auras within the town. Snapping his eyes back open, he strained out a gasp.

"M-Maybe I shouldn't look over there with my aura," he muttered. "Too many people…"

Deino glanced at the rustic house once again, turning his head just enough to view it from the corner of his eye. Upon closing his eyes again, he spotted a pastel yellow aura - accompanied by a cobalt blue one! He also noticed a magenta aura of some sort…

"Ah- _ha_!" he exclaimed, circling around in front of the house. "Yeah, here they are! I bet they'll be surprised to see me—"

The ground trembled beneath him, tripping him up. "Wh- _Whoa_ —"

Slipping onto the loose gravel, Deino felt the wind get knocked out of his lungs. He slowly tore his gaze from the ground, spotting a dugtrio towering over him.

"Oh, hi!" the dragon greeted, scrambling to his feet. "Who are you—"

"If you know what's good for you, stay away from these outskirts," Dugtrio stated. Although his three heads wore similar expressions, one of them had a sense of…

Well, the little dragon couldn't quite figure out what it was. He forced his smile up, saying, "Oookay, then! I just wanted to play with—"

"Don't make us repeat ourselves." The ground-type leaned forward, his middle head furrowing its brow. "This house marks the border for dragon-types. If you cross this border, we will be forced to detain you."

Backing up, Deino's smile dropped. "Um… O-Okay. I'll go play somewhere else, then!"

He headed back the way he came, though not before shooting a glance at the dugtrio. _No gray aura… That's good, at least!_

A moment later, he puffed his cheeks. _Can't play with anybody over here… There's gotta be someone I can play with!_

Deino's mind trailed back to the dugtrio he encountered. Thinking over that particular expression he saw, he still couldn't quite place a word for it.

* * *

Combing over the papers one last time, Camilla nodded with a bit more confidence. There was no doubt she'd have to confront Alakazam again, but she felt certain that as long as she wasn't alone with him, she'd be fine.

She gazed out the window, grimacing at the afternoon sun. Now that she had sent Lockjaw home, she was the only 'mon in the library. Though she debated waiting until closing time, Camilla doubted Alakazam's patience in this scenario… _Well, I shouldn't keep him waiting. If this plan doesn't work, it's only going to get more difficult._

The feraligatr headed out the library, hanging up a sign that said, "Closed until I come back."

Puffing out her chest, Camilla strode down to the center of town. She passed by Felicity Bank, noting the small crowd of pokémon lined up around it.

 _My, what a crowd,_ she mused, squeezing behind a rhydon and continuing down the western path. _Rush hour must be lasting a while._

As she walked on, however, the crowd went into a wild frenzy. Camilla whipped around, watching several pokémon dive after a few coins. Persian seemed to be having difficulties controlling the crowd, her fur all frazzled from the experience.

" _Tout le monde_ , calm down!" the normal-type pleaded. "Ssh— I'm risking everything to help you— _Calmez-vous, s'il vous plaît_!"

Camilla exhaled. _Oh, it's one of _these_ stunts…_

She went around to the front, standing beside Persian. The few who had gotten even a single coin had run off, reducing the size of the crowd.

"Is this your first time?" Camilla muttered, eyeing the pile of coins on the feline's stand.

Persian's tail bristled. " _Oui_ , unfortunately. I didn't think there would be so many pokémon… _Madame_ Camilla, you know how bad things are around here, _n'est-ce pas_?"

"All too well." The feraligatr pointed to the pile. "Tell them to stand in a line, and keep the coin stash hidden. You'll need to act like it's a typical workday. Crowding around a bank like this is suspicious."

"...Oh, _bien sûr_ ," Persian realized, quickly hiding the coins under the stand and clearing her throat. "Okay, everyone! Form a single line _rapidement_. Let's try to keep it calm, _d'accord_?"

In order to make sure the crowd complied, Camilla stared them down. "It's this or get caught. I'm sure everyone here knows what ACT thinks of these _operations_."

The group of civilians simmered down, fear flickering in several pairs of eyes. Satisfied, Camilla winked to Persian before heading back towards the bridge.

She caught a subtle oddity in her mind when she stopped at the dome that housed Team ACT. Though she seemed to have just missed it, some presence lingered in this area.

 _Could it be…?_ Camilla shook herself. _No, that can't be right. He hasn't intervened in aeons…_

Recollecting herself, the water-type alternated her grip on the letter. She knocked on the door, relaxing her shoulders while she waited.

 _Maybe I'm just hoping for some luck on my side,_ she determined.

The door creaked open, revealing Tony at the front. "Hello? How may I assist—"

He choked on his words when he saw the feraligatr. "...Missus Camilla! This is— Well, this is a… _surprise_ …"

"Certainly," Camilla responded, her tone curt. "Now that we're done with pleasantries, take this letter for me."

"Er, right." The tyranitar pulled the letter and opened it in front of her. "...Ah! So you fixed all those issues."

Nodding, Camilla crossed her arms. "I expect a response by tomorrow. Thank you for accepting my revision."

"...Yeah…"

For a moment, Camilla watched the dark-type look at the second page and squint his eyes. She furrowed her brow, a chill running down her scales despite herself.

_Don't tell me he found something I may have missed…_

Tony's eyes then widened, and he returned his gaze to the feraligatr. "Ah— I'll be sure to give you a response later! Er, have a good day!"

He then shut the door, leaving Camilla to relax. The feraligatr cupped her snout for a minute before slowly heading back.

 _I hope that was a good sign,_ she noted. _I can never tell with them these days. All that's left is to wait…_

* * *

Despite the words written on this form telling otherwise, Tony could hardly believe what he saw on it: a cyndaquil, whose past rescuing experience involved Secretary Rey's kid in _Tiny Woods_. This couldn't be a coincidence!

 _Rocard and Lockjaw,_ he repeated to himself. _I have to make sure this Rocard is the cyndaquil Deino was looking for! Surely, there aren't many cyndaquil roaming about…_

_However…_

Tony glanced towards King and Alakazam, recalling the former's tirade about the latter. _I don't know how much of what King said was actually true. Would Al… Would he _really_ kick us out of town for helping a dragon-type? Aren't we fr… Aren't we teammates?_

Briefly, he considered telling the psychic the truth anyways. They _were_ teammates - and working together to run this region! He couldn't get booted out of the team for assisting a single, harmless dragon!

His grip on the paper tightened, scrunching it up. _...Would he?_

The rock-type noticed King looking his way. Gesturing a claw towards his side, the charizard cocked his head.

"So, who was at the door?" he asked.

"Camilla," Tony blurted out. "She gave me the revised forms."

Was it just him, or did he see Alakazam wince just now? The tyranitar shook that thought out of his head, laying the papers on the table for all to see.

King narrowed his eyes at the form containing Rocard's information. "...You can't be serious. A fire-type helped in rescuing our secretary's son?"

Grimacing, Tony looked away. "You don't have to speak like that about your type."

The charizard huffed. "I can talk as much shit about my typing as I like. You know I'm not fit for any exploration; if _I'm_ having this much trouble controlling myself, what makes you think a _cyndaquil_ will do any better?"

In a split second, his breath hitched. "...Are you saying a cyndaquil is doing _better_ than me? I thought you were better than this, but—"

"Wait, hold on!" Tony exclaimed. "I never meant any of the sort! I only said you shouldn't be putting yourself down—"

"Because some smaller, _weaker_ blazer is capable of rescuing while _I'm_ not?" King tensed up, claws posed to strike. "I'm supposed to be managing the sheriff's department and leading mass rescues, but this damn _epidemic_ is making me useless as a group of silcoon, and— And—"

As the fire-type ran out of steam, Tony rubbed a tentative claw down his wing. "Everyone's doing what they can - even you. That's all anyone can ask for right now."

King faltered, leaning against the table and taking in short breaths. "That just isn't _enough_! If a measly cyndaquil can rescue someone, _I_ should be fit to do that, too! I just…"

"I'm sure we can work on it," Tony whispered. He stroked the back of the charizard's neck, adding, "If a cyndaquil can rescue, you can, too. How about you join me in my next mission tomorrow? Will that suffice?"

Steadying his breathing, King closed his eyes and pressed against the rock-type. "...Yes, I think that'll do. I'm stronger than this, I _know_ it. I _have_ to be. Anything for—"

Tony watched the charizard freeze up, a furious blush crossing his scales.

"You alright?" Tony asked, placing the back of his hand on King's head. "...Not a fever…"

"Er— It's fine, Tony." King forced a smile to his face, wriggling out of the tyranitar's grasp and clearing his throat. The blush subsided, and he repeated, "Yes, I'd like to come along in your next mission. That's the one in Mount Blaze, isn't it?"

Hesitating, Tony stared at him before heaving out a sigh. "Yeah, that's the one. It's an escort mission, though, so maybe you should—"

He forced himself to stop talking. _...Why am I resisting what I just encouraged him to do? Dammit, Tony, he's trying to do better!_

"I should prepare myself accordingly, naturally," King finished, flashing a weak smile.

"Y-Yeah, exactly!"

Tony reciprocated the smile with even less confidence. _I shouldn't be overthinking this. Not now, when we're attempting to make this better._

"Come on, you've shown better smiles than that. What's eating at you?"

Unable to wrap his head around that first statement, Tony's smile faded. "What… No, I'm just worried. We still haven't found anything to fix that epidemic."

King turned away, exhaling. "I have to get back to rescuing at some point, epidemic be damned. If that means slogging through an escort mission, so be it."

He faced the tyranitar once again, opening his mouth to say something… but he closed it and thought about it more. "I'm sure you'll be able to help me if necessary. That's what a _team_ is for, of course."

Processing the charizard's speech, a wide smile spread across Tony's face. "That's the spirit! Of _course_ I'll help you when needed!"

The rock-type patted King on the back before glancing at Alakazam's desk. "Well, we should focus back on the whole Camilla issue. What do you think, Al—"

Alakazam had disappeared from the desk. Tony exchanged awkward glances with King before hearing something shift behind him.

"Our secretary claims what this form says is accurate," the psychic stated, a hint of disappointment in his tone. "She _also_ informed me Rocard visited her personally after the fact. _Twice_ , even. Her son apparently had an additional request for him."

" _Really_?" Tony grinned. "Perhaps that would be a good reason to approve these?"

"Don't get ahead of yourself," Alakazam reprimanded with a deadpan expression. "This successful mission appears to have been a fluke, as that mission Rey's son provided Rocard was an utter failure. From what I heard, he went in without aid from the totodile."

King perked up, furrowing his brow. "Can you really fault him for that? That totodile was likely making sure he didn't get overwhelmed - and _you_ , of all 'mon, should know how paranoid blazers are getting."

Raising a brow, the psychic-type crossed his arms. "Perhaps… However, I encountered a cyndaquil during a debriefing with Sergeant Swellow earlier this morning. Assuming this fire-type is the same one that rescued Rey's son…"

He trailed off, glancing at one of his spoons. Tony watched the utensil bend back and forth.

 _Why the sudden silence?_ the dark-type wondered.

"...I suppose that theory would be supported in that encounter," Alakazam sighed. He took another look at the sheets, then turned to his teammates. "Tony, get to work on the acceptance letter. I… shall prepare the badges."

Tony's eyes widened, and he quickly nodded. "Of course! I'll get it done right away!"

As the psychic left the room, Tony smiled at King. The charizard hesitated in returning it, prompting Tony to pat a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“Hey, Tony?” King gestured to something on the floor a fair distance away from them. “I… kinda dropped a mirror while you and Al were out. There was a knock on the door that startled me.”

Still rubbing the fire-type’s shoulder, Tony tilted his head. “Did you answer the door?”

King scoffed. “Pfft, _no_. How do you think they’d react to me shambling over them? It was probably a solicitor anyways.”

Chuckling softly, Tony took in a deep breath. “Yeah, I suppose it was.”

* * *

Rocard peeked open an eye, leering out the hole. It had been a while since Deino left - had it simply been five minutes? All this thinking skewed his perception of time.

 _I thought I'd be glad when that omniscient voice finally stopped talking to me._ A half-hearted chuckle escaped him. _But in a way, he showed up pretty consistently. At least I got _some_ news from him._

His brow furrowed, and he balled his hands into fists. _He's gotta be toying with me now. I get only bad news from him as a human, then when I'm thrust into a new world as a pokémon, he says _nothing_._

Attempting to figure out why this was the case only led to frustration. The cyndaquil rolled onto his back, rubbing his face.

 _What did I deserve to get this sort of punishment?_ he seethed. _Is reincarnation real, and did a previous me do some horrendous shit? Or am I just some _plaything_ , and the god that was playing with me got bored? Did he stop?_

For a moment, hope sparked from that last thought. Then, as quickly as it came, the feeling fizzled out, replaced with resignation. _Some other legendary god is gonna pick me up and torment me. I'm still getting those dreams here, after all._

There was no use in getting his hopes up. That led straight to a false sense of security - something that screwed him over time and time again.

Phenac, Pyrite, Agate, _Irene_ , _Koal_ … Each and every single one of those unfortunate places and people had been ruined because of _him_ If he weren't so _damn spineless_ , he could've prevented _all of those events_.

But _no_. He had to watch the closest person to a sister he ever had get stabbed and Koal get taken from him and turned—

...All because of him.

_You were always just some unhelpful piece of trash, Rocard. What makes you think you can change that? You're nothing but the dirt people walk on, ruining everything you've enjoyed while you twiddle your thumbs and just let it happen—_

" _ **Stop.**_ "

Time felt as though it had stopped around Rocard. The voice had come back.

_The voice had come back._

He took in a deep breath, growling, " _You_. You're talking to me _again_? And not only that, you almost led me into believing you'd left me for good! What, did you just want to add salt to the wound or—"

" _ **Stop _now_ , Rocard.**_"

A surge of wind overwhelmed Rocard, and he began clawing his way out of the tree. He landed face-first onto the grass, popping back up immediately afterwards. "Like _hell_ I'm gonna listen to you!"

Sprinting deeper into the woods, the cyndaquil glanced around frantically, making sure nobody else was around to see what argument he was about to have with a _voice in his head_.

" _ **You… are aware running won't change things, aren't you?**_ " the voice muttered.

"...'Won't change things'— I fucking _know_ , bitch!" Rocard spat. He stopped and turned around, as if facing the voice. "And _you_ should be aware that I _hate_ you with _every fiber of my being_! I can't trust your wishes for 'good luck' or any of that bullshit - why would I when all you've ever done is tell me what _travesty_ is gonna happen next?"

" _ **I have a duty, Rocard.**_ " A soft breeze caressed Rocard's shoulders, as if trying to calm him down. " _ **However, I never had much power over your future, let alone back then. The best I could do was inform you of an upcoming event so you could be prepared.**_ "

"What a load of tauros-shit," the former human seethed. " _You_ , some deity, couldn't do a thing about _my_ predicament?"

The voice went silent for a few seconds. Then, it huffed. " _ **Tell me: how far away do you think I am?**_ "

Rocard furrowed his brow, turning on his heels and walking. "What does that have to do with anything? You're a _god_! Distance shouldn't matter!"

" _ **And yet it does,**_ " said the voice. A breeze slid over the cyndaquil's head. " _ **This is the first time I've contacted you while you're awake, isn't it? And what about the motions of this wind?**_ "

Shutting his eyes, Rocard let out a frustrated groan. The yellow-green mix of waves from his dreams occupied the previous darkness. "Rrgh… You could've held back up until now."

" _ **Now, why would I do that?**_ "

"Oh, _I dunno_ , you're a parasitic fungus wanting to destroy my sanity inside-out?" Rocard grumbled, crossing his arms. "You may be a god, but don't think for a second I'm gonna respect you just like that. Not after what you've said."

" _ **The thought never occurred to me,**_ " the voice added drily. " _ **Regardless, I had something else to talk about—**_ "

"Are you gonna finally kill me off now that I've insulted you or whatever?" Rocard rolled his eyes at the sudden stillness in the air. "That'd be nice. Giratina's probably gonna treat me better than you."

" _ **... _Any_ ways…**_"

For a moment, Rocard could see a silhouette in front of him. However, it dissipated before he could take it all in.

" _ **As you may already know, certain types of pokémon have been acting strangely.**_ "

Rocard buried his face in his hands. "Yeah, I couldn't tell when I confronted a shadow flaaffy."

In response to that, an abrupt gust of wind blew past him. " _ ** _Shit_ , it's already reached the common pokémon… I was hoping that it wouldn't spread this fast— Er…**_"

"What?" The former human tilted his head. A smirk found its way onto his face despite himself. "Oh, you're finally getting all nervous. How's it feel, bitch?"

" _ **...Okay, listen,**_ " the voice began, " _ **I've been having a rough day, what with you being suddenly transported here, the Voice wanting to take up spots I've been saving for the next decade, and overall just trying to find the source of that corruption—**_ "

"Boohoo, cry me a river," Rocard scoffed. "I'm assuming by 'a rough day', you mean 'a rough two decades', since that's about how long I've been living in constant fear of what sentence of doom you were gonna say to me next."

" _ **Do you want to fight me**_?"

The cyndaquil hesitated at the sudden bluntness from the voice. _Did I hear that right?_

" _ **Should I repeat myself?**_ "

"Oh, I don't just wanna fight you," Rocard stated, "I wanna kill you. I want to come to your lair and beat the ever-loving _shit_ out of you, destroy your stuff, then throw your remains off a cliff."

" _ **...Vulgarity aside,**_ " the voice continued, " _ **I have a proposition for you: find and defeat the three legends atop this continent's mountains, then come and fight me. That way, you'll be strong enough for me not to consider this a beatdown.**_ "

Rocard grinned, letting loose a vengeful chuckle. "Oh, it'll be a beatdown alright. I just won't be the one getting the brunt of it."

" _ **Well said.**_ " A bit of wind patted the fire-type's back. " _ **I suppose that, as you would put it, 'it's on'.**_ "

"Damn _right_ it's on!"

As the presence faded, it added one last quip. " _ **I'll be waiting for my demise.**_ "

The bloodlust slowly dwindled away, as did Rocard's confidence. He sighed, glancing around. The wind returned to its usual serene breeze, leaving him to contemplate this new development. A fair distance away, he could see a clearing and some rocks.

 _Great, I'm lost._ Grumbling to himself, he headed in one direction and started looking for a pathway. _I guess I should find that deino now…_

He abruptly halted in his tracks. _Wait a second… Did he just swindle me into doing a _favor_?_

Rocard cursed to himself, resuming his walking. "If it means I can get strong enough to beat him, I _guess_ I'll take up that offer… Not like I had any idea what I should do anyways…"

For a moment, he caught a distinct whiff of smoke. He peered behind himself, but he couldn't see any signs of it.

Obviously, he knew he could use a smokescreen… Just not on the fly. _Is it supposed to hurt whenever I do that? Maybe I just need some practice…_

The cyndaquil sighed. _...Except not here, because I don't want to risk burning anything down. I'll do it later._

* * *

Lockjaw kicked a few pebbles out of the way, glaring at the ground while he trudged around Westward River. This offshoot of Centric River, given its rough terrain and protruding ledges, didn't have many pokémon taking this path - an advantage his parents took to ensure they made it home.

He never really understood it; why would his father want to steal a whole bunch of stuff, let alone get _away_ with it? Maybe it was the rush of doing something you weren't supposed to do without getting caught?

The totodile added that to the ever-changing list of things to ask Greyson next. Aside from the decisions his father made, he had someone else on his mind: Rocard.

 _I still can't believe I had to team up with him,_ he huffed, launching another rock with a grunt. _He's _crazy_! I don't wanna associate with someone who barges into a mystery dungeon by himself and expects everything to go well!_

Unfortunately, he couldn't do anything about it now. With his mother potentially at risk, he had to play along for the time being. _I'm gonna make sure I find someone to replace him as soon as possible, though._

Slowing down upon spotting a pile of rocks near a tree, Lockjaw veered back into the forest. He eyed the trees, making sure he was heading in the right direction. Due to the next checkpoint being a ways off, he kept his body forward so as to not get lost.

That said, he didn't appreciate the rustling that started only after he had set his course. It took every last thread of patience not to whip around and search for the cause. Each crinkled leaf felt like a jab at his side.

However, the noise never faded away. In fact, the totodile had a sneaking suspicion it was actually growing in volume. _...Maybe just one little check? I've done this path before, anyways._

Lockjaw quickly turned around, finding none other than Rocard.

"Oh, it's just you," the water-type groaned. "Why are you following me?"

Rocard sighed, crossing his arms. "Took you long enough to notice."

"It's kinda hard not to hear a bunch of bushes rustling," Lockjaw stated. He rolled his eyes. "You didn't answer my question, either."

As soon as the totodile finished that last statement, Rocard's gaze hardened. "...That's none of your business. You clearly know where you're headed, so I'll just be following you until I find the right tree."

Tilting his head, Lockjaw leered at the cyndaquil. "Right… So you're lost again."

"Wh— Okay, _yeah_ , I'm _lost_!" Rocard threw his paws into the air, letting loose an exasperated moan. "Just hurry up - I don't want to encounter that stupid dragon again…"

Lockjaw halted in his tracks, eyes wide. _Dragon?_

He turned to the fire-type, mouth twitching. "You saw a _dragon_ here?! _Where_?"

"Yeah, he's a deino, about…" Rocard lifted an arm to about half his height, hesitated, then raised it over his head. "About my size. I was probably close to Tiny Woods when he jumped me, talking about how he'd been looking all over for me. He was wearing some sort of medical tape over his head, so I could see his eyes clearly."

Before the totodile could respond, Rocard added, "Come to think of it… He's got the same color irises as I do, but the rest of his eyes are pitch black. Pretty creepy if you ask me."

"Uh— Look, do you mind helping me find this deino?" Lockjaw requested. "My ma and dad are… Er…"

The reptilian faltered, glancing around. Since nobody else seemed to be here, he leaned in closer. "Okay, you _have_ to make sure nobody else in town knows this, alright?"

Rocard furrowed his brow. "...Alright. I wasn't exactly expecting this, but if I don't have to deal with him for a while… What's this oh-so-precious secret?"

Lockjaw gulped. "Well… My dad's a dragonite, and my parents are pretty involved with the draconids."

Crossing his arms, Rocard seemed to mull it over for a few moments. When he returned them to his side, he said, "Why's that such a big deal? Hell, I'd be pretty proud of having a dragon as a parent."

"Dragons aren't allowed in the Square, okay?!"

The cyndaquil went silent. Lockjaw took this moment to usher him along.

"If any of the guards spot that deino in town," the water-type continued, "he'll be captured. I don't know what exactly would happen to him, but it'd be _bad_."

Scowling, Rocard raised a paw… then lowered it. "How… Who the _hell_ thought it was okay to do something like that?"

"Team ACT."

Rocard sighed, rubbing his temples. "Of course it'd be those guys… Yeah, let's go find that deino. Take the lead, will ya'?"

Lockjaw gritted his teeth. Of all the reactions he expected, he certainly didn’t expect the fire-type to brush it off. "Right, right. Tell me if you see him or whatever."

As he resumed his trek, the totodile pondered on what Rocard wasn't telling him. _How can he not know about how rescue teams or mystery dungeons work? Why can't he read footprint runes? Why did he make me… shake his paw when we made that deal?_

He glanced back at the cyndaquil for a brief moment, returning his gaze before Roc ard noticed. _I swear, it's like he's from another world…_


End file.
